


Trust Me

by Itzsyd123



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Blood and Injury, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Past Sexual Assault, Slow Burn, Smut, not set in any specific season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 70,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26033440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itzsyd123/pseuds/Itzsyd123
Summary: After spending the majority of your formative years being forced to claw your way to the top, you are finally where you wanted to be. As the newest member of the BAU, you must work to build a relationship with your new team while also solving some of the most grizzly cases brought to the FBI. Between flying back and forth across the country and the mountain of paperwork that never seems to get any smaller, you thought your past wouldn't have a chance at creeping back up on you. However, when things begin to get a little tricky again, will the team be able to keep you from falling to pieces?
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 77
Kudos: 252





	1. Where it Begins

**Author's Note:**

> I have been very indecisive about writing this about an original character or doing it from the reader's perspective. It ultimately ended up flowing a little better with the reader, but it was originally written with an original character's name. I apologize if there are any spots where I missed changing a pronoun or name, I tried to comb through as best I could!

As you walk into the bullpen at 8:00am on your first day as an FBI agent, you are simultaneously the most excited and most terrified you have ever been in your life. You spent the majority of your formative years with your head down, working as hard as you could to get what you wanted. 

Over and over again, you were told you couldn’t do it. You were too weak, too small, too stupid. You would make a horrible profiler. You were too socially awkward. 

But you did it. After years of school, months of grueling physical training, and a surprisingly easy field test, you shook the hands of the infamous Supervisory Special Agents, Aaron Hotchner and David Rossi, as they asked you to be a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. 

You make your way around the bullpen, following the path to Unit Chief Hotchner’s office that you had taken several times during the interview process. This time, however, is different. Now, you have your go bag slung over your shoulder, and the deep feeling of relief that you get to stay this time. 

Your knuckles rap quietly on the doorway to the Unit Chief’s office, not wanting to interrupt loudly in case he is in the middle of something important. Agent Hotchner looks up from the stack of paperwork he is reviewing.

“Agent [y/l/n], please come in. It’s a pleasure to have you back in the office. I assume you completed the paperwork I emailed over to you?” He closes the file he is working on and comes around his desk to greet you formally. You shake his hand firmly, just like how you were taught in elementary school. 

You nod, releasing his hand and reaching into your bag to pull out a folder. Each document is pristinely highlighted, and each set of paperwork is paperclipped together. 

“Yes, Sir. Everything should be filled out and organized to your satisfaction,” You say confidently, trying desperately to seem professional and put-together. 

“Please, call me Hotch. I feel old when you all call me Sir. And thank you for being so organized. I feel like some of our longer term agents could learn a thing or two from you,” He says with a small smile, flipping through the papers to make sure all documents are accounted for. Hotch places the file folder down on the desk, moving towards his doorway and leading you back out of his office.

“Your desk will be between Agent Reid and Agent Prentiss, so you can go to either of them with any questions. Usually we all work together at the round table, but after a case wraps up, there is quite a bit of paperwork we are all expected to complete individually. This job is extremely overwhelming at first, but I’m sure that you’ll settle in nicely,” He finishes as he escorts you to your desk. You toss your go bag on the floor as you pull out your chair, taking a seat at your own desk for the first time ever. You have to hold your breath a little to keep it from coming out uneven when you exhale. You finally proved everyone wrong, and you are exactly where you knew you’d end up. 

As you log on to your computer, Hotch gives you the necessary information to navigate the FBI database. After poking around in the system for a short while, getting a feel for what you need to do, you see two figures approach in the reflection of the monitor. Turning to face them, you recognize them both from your second interview. You almost fly up from your chair to shake hands and greet them formally.

“Agent Prentiss, Dr. Reid, it’s great to see you both again!” You chirp. 

“Please, call me Emily. I usually reserve ‘Agent Prentiss’ for the officers that think I need to prove something for them to respect me,” she laughs as she shakes your hand.

“And you don’t need to call me Doctor. Spencer is just fine. Or you can call any of us by our last names. We’re usually pretty far from professional here in the office,” Reid chimes in, also taking the hand that you offered. 

“Well, either way, I’m happy to see you both again. It looks like I’ll be sitting between the two of you. I want to apologize in advance for any of the stupid questions I’m probably going to ask. I’m not really great with technology,” you say as you take your seat again, spinning yourself back to face the monitor. 

You really aren’t great with technology. You can navigate your phone pretty well, but those are made to be easy and functional. However, this new FBI software looks complicated, not very functional, and like it was probably coded in the early 1990’s. Sometimes you struggle with your personal computer at home, finding yourself entirely lost whenever something goes wrong. 

“There’s no such thing as a stupid question. Besides, you’re meant to be here. You wouldn’t be sitting at that desk if you weren’t completely capable,” Spencer replies as he sits at his desk.

“Besides, you don’t need to be good at computers. That’s what I’m here for,” you hear a chipper voice come from behind you. You turn to see one of the most colorful and happy people you have ever met in your life. You recognize her immediately as Penelope Garcia, the technical analyst for the team. “I just wanted to stop by and say ‘hello and welcome’ before anybody else has a chance to scare you away. If things ever get too intense and creepy for you, my door is always open. Well, at least almost always. Please knock first, just in case,” she continues, still sporting her bright smile. 

“Thank you, but nothing here is going to scare me away. I worked too hard to get here, you guys can’t get rid of me that easily,” you reply.

It’s true, there aren’t many things in this world that scare you. Deep space and the things that live in the bottom of the ocean are at the top of the list, followed shortly by the idea of intimacy and failing those who care about you.

Everyone laughs at your comment, making you feel warm on the inside. You are a people-pleaser at heart, and you are happiest when those around you are happy. 

Backing away from your desk and making his way towards his office, Hotch addresses the group. “Well, seeing that she’s here to stay, I expect you all to take care of Agent [y/l/n] the way I took care of you when you started. I’ll see you all at the round table in an hour,” he finishes as he retreats to his office. 

You turn back to your monitor, clicking around to try and find things on your own. Without a case to work on, you are left to your own devices for the next little while. You pull a stack of sticky-notes out of your bag, jotting down how to find things in the database and any shortcuts you come across. Your personal note taking style stands in stark contrast to the files you left with Hotch. When you write for yourself, it’s typically with sloppy handwriting and no regard for linear thinking. 

After about fifteen minutes, you notice Emily watching you over the divider between your desks. You give her a little wave of acknowledgment before continuing on your quest to not need to ask for any help with your computer. 

“You know you can ask us for help if you need to,” Emily says simply.

“I know,” you shoot back, not taking your eyes off of the screen.

“I know you know. I just want to make it clear that none of us are going to judge you if you need help. This job isn’t easy. We don’t expect you to be perfect right out of the gate.”

“I know,” you state again. You sit back in your chair, removing your elbows from your desk and giving your eyes a moment to rest. As you look at Emily, you can tell she is reading you like a book. “I thought we weren’t supposed to profile each other. Isn’t that, like, rule number one?”

“It’s not profiling if I don’t have to dig for it. The second Hotch left you alone, you got so close to the computer that I thought you forgot to wear glasses today, but it looks more like you are trying to shut everything else out. You’ve been silent for the past fifteen minutes, and you keep doing the same things over and over again. You are writing yourself notes so that you won’t have to ask us for help later. Also, I’ve worked with Reid for years. I can spot a closed-off perfectionist from a mile away,” Emily rattles off as she leans her forearms on the divider, resting her chin on her hands. A smug smirk appears on her face when you tense at her words, confirming everything she just said.

“Hey, I’m not a perfectionist. It’s just that I picked up some habits after earning three PhDs,” Reid quips back from behind the divider on the other side of your desk. 

You smile a little bit at their jokes. You know they are just poking fun and trying to get to know you, but there is a certain level of intimidation that comes with making friends with geniuses who psychoanalyze people for a living. 

“I’m pretty sure it’s still profiling even if they hand the information to you on a silver platter,” you retort. “But I get what you’re going for. I don’t like asking for help. I never have, and I don’t think I ever will.”

“You don’t have very many good relationships, do you?” Reid asks bluntly, popping his head up over the divider that separates you two.

“Reid, don’t be rude,” Emily gasps, trying to hide a laugh.

“I’m not trying to be rude! On average, people who are perfectionists and don’t ask for help typically have less fulfilling relationships, or fewer relationships overall. You can’t argue with facts,” he replies quickly in an attempt to defend himself.

You sigh deeply, knowing that these people were going to know you inside and out before too long.

“No, he’s right. I don’t have very many relationships at all. I don’t talk to my parents. My two best friends live together across the country. I’m here by myself, but I’m not completely unhappy this way,” you answer honestly. 

Emily nods, seemingly impressed that you didn’t come unhinged at Reid’s personal question. He just makes an ‘I-told-you-so’ face at Emily before sitting back down to continue his work. 

Just as you all settle back in to continue your work before the meeting, a small blonde woman you recognize as JJ comes power walking around the corner, a large stack of files in her arms. 

“Everybody up. We’re starting early today. This one’s gonna be a big one,” she announces as she hustles up the stairs to the round table. 

You grab your notebook and favorite pen out of your bag before heading off behind her. As soon as the words leave her mouth, your heart begins to race. You knew it would come eventually, but you still feel yourself fill with dread as the time to prove yourself comes rushing towards you.


	2. Where it All Falls Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Discussion about suicide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this accidentally ended up being double the length of the last chapter...

You follow closely behind JJ as she enters the conference room, sliding files across the desk towards each seat. She takes her spot at the head of the table, stopping to scan her copy of the file while everyone else fills the room. You wait to take a seat, not wanting to step on any toes in case anybody has a favorite spot. Emily and Reid take a seat, leaving a space for you in between them. You hustle over, opening your file to see what horror is about to take over the next week of your life. 

“Denver, Colorado. The body of a young woman was recovered two days ago on the campus of the University of Denver. It was found right outside one of the dorm buildings,” JJ starts as she pulls pictures up on the screen. 

You thought you had prepared yourself for the graphic imagery you would see during this job, but your stomach begins to churn as you look at the body of a young blonde girl, no older than 25, lying bruised and bloodied on the concrete outside of a building. 

“Just one body? Why are they calling us in?” You hear a deep voice ask. You assume it came from Agent Morgan. During the interview process, you were told a few facts about each member of the team. One piece of information that came up about Derek Morgan was his habit of questioning whether every case was worth their time.

“Partially because of how she died. Looking at this, it appears that she may have just jumped from a window in the building,” JJ replies. You agree, it does look like a suicide at first glance. There is so much blood on the ground around her. But something doesn’t sit quite right with you. “However, upon autopsy, a note was recovered. It was lodged so far down in her throat, nobody would be able to get something that far down without excessive force.”

“Or some sort of special equipment,” Reid chimes in. As you turn towards him, you can see him looking between the file and the photos, trying to make sense of what he is seeing. “Unless the piece of paper was placed right at the back of her throat and she swallowed it, you would need some sort of tool to get it down there. The victim is fairly petite, so someone probably couldn’t fit their entire hand in her mouth.”

“Unless it was another petite woman,” Emily says. “Think about it: your boyfriend cheats on you, you find the homewrecker, you get into a fight. If she knocked the victim unconscious, she could have gotten her hand down there. It’s an easy way to get her feelings out and it was pretty unlikely that anyone would find it.”

“Why was there an autopsy anyways? It looks like a cut and dry accident or suicide to me. A college girl parties too hard, has a little too much to drink, makes a bad decision and ends up tumbling out a window. It’s an easy enough mistake to make,” Morgan pipes up again. His thought process strikes a nerve in you, giving you enough courage to speak about what you noticed.

“Well, there are probably a couple of reasons,” you say quietly. Everyone turns to look at you, clearly interested in what you have to say. “First, this university has an extremely wealthy student population. A young white girl dies unexpectedly, her parents are absolutely going to look for a reason to not call it a suicide or a stupid mistake. Second, look at the patterns in the bruising. May I?” You turn to Hotch before standing up. He nods, and you approach the screen.

Gesturing to the photos in front of you, you continue your analysis. “If you look here, at her upper arm, there are some pretty dark bruises that wrap around. If we were looking at her from the front, I would bet we could see finger marks. This tells us a couple of things. Primarily, she wouldn’t have bruises here if she just jumped on her own accord, or even if she fell. Those bruises had to have been made by another person. Also, the hand print is big enough that it is most likely not from another female. Both the size and location point to the unsub being male. They would have to be quite a bit taller than our victim for that hand placement to be comfortable or functional.”

“The bruises are too developed to have happened just before she fell,” Reid jumps back in. He comes up to stand at the screen with you. “The bruising is green around the edges and brown towards the center. They have to be at least a week old.”

“Well, the family did report that they had no contact with our victim for at least two weeks before the body was recovered. They didn’t think it was suspicious, since she was off on her own at college. She really only called home about once a month, so there was no reason to worry,” JJ continues to give out basic background information to help build the case.

“Did she have any friends? Someone should have noticed she was missing,” Hotch says.

“No. Nobody in the entire building reported ever being close to her. No significant relationships. She had a single room, so there was no roommate to report her missing. The RA for her floor said that she kept mostly to herself. There was nothing there to set off any alarms. It’s pretty sad, really,” JJ shuts her folder, and you see a hint of sadness cross her face.

“I’m still not convinced. A young girl, a freshman in college, with no friends and no social life goes off the grid for a week. How do we know that she wasn’t just depressed and tried to jump? Someone caught her the first time, pulling her back from the window and leaving the bruises. She goes back into hiding for a little while, and then she succeeds. It seems pretty cut and dry to me,” Derek says, seemingly coming to his final conclusion. 

“The bruising pattern isn’t consistent with trying to keep someone from jumping. Let me demonstrate. [Y/n], are you okay if I touch you to prove my point?” Reid turns to you to ask. 

“Of course,” you reply, and face away from him, as if you were standing on a window ledge.

“See, if [y/n] was trying to jump, and I was trying to stop her, I would reach around her arms like this,” Reid placed his hands around your upper arms. His palms cover the front of your arms, his fingers wrapping around towards the back. He pulls you back towards him, showing how the direction of the pressure could not have caused the bruises. “However, if I was a male unsub trying to control someone, I could do this.”

Suddenly, Reid twists his hands around your arms, with his palms against the backs and his fingers wrapping around towards the front. He pushes you towards the screen, completing the visual of how those bruises would be created. Your breath catches in your throat as you come to a stop right before your head hits the wall. You understand what Reid was going for, but this seems a little intense just to prove a point. You feel him let go of you, and you turn back to face the group. You hope that your face isn’t too red after being thrown into the wall by the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid. 

As you look around the table, you can see everyone nodding in agreement. You take your seat again, going back to file. 

“Okay. On the off chance this is murder and not suicide, why did they ask for us? What did the note say that was bad enough to get the FBI involved?” Derek continues with his line of doubtful questions.

“It says ‘I asked for help, and you failed me. This is your punishment. Let's just hope you do your job right this time.’” JJ says flatly, pulling up the note on the screen. You squint a little to read the faded writing. 

“That was put down her throat after she died,” you conclude. “If she was still alive, it would probably be too wet to read. She would have been dead for a while. The unsub gave things time to dry out before he left his note.”

“Bold of him to assume anybody would find it,” Rossi says, finally joining the discussion. 

“There have probably been other murders. He staged them as suicides so nobody thought to do a full autopsy,” Hotch suggests. “Garcia, I need you to pull all of the files on suicides in the Denver area over the past six months. Flag any of them with victims that resemble ours or that had any suspicious details.”

“Can do, sir,” Garcia says, dashing back to her office.

“Well, even if this does end up being some sick joke and it is a suicide, we can’t risk not knowing. Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch says, standing up from the table and heading back towards his office. 

Everyone else stands and rushes off to their desks to grab their go bags. You follow closely behind, grabbing your bag and following Emily and Reid. Emily falls back to match pace with you.

“You did a great job back there. I know Morgan can seem like he doesn’t believe anything. He just really likes to challenge everyone to think harder to prove their point. It’s annoying, but it’s good practice. Are you feeling okay?” 

“I’m doing alright. Definitely pretty nervous, suffering from some pretty serious imposter syndrome, but overall I think I’m ready for this,” you lie. You feel bile rising in the back of your throat, still stuck on the idea that there may be other young women that needlessly died because someone didn’t look hard enough. You keep a straight face, though, trying to show Emily that you are competent and ready. 

\---

The ride to the airport is uneventful. You all pile onto the jet, everyone taking their respective seats before you find a place to wedge yourself. The team continues discussing possibilities for the profile, but you dig deeper into the file. The more you look at the photos, the less disturbing they become. You hate the feeling that it is already becoming normalized in your mind, but you know that will help you in the long run. 

After staring at the photos for what feels like an eternity, something clicks in your mind.

“Uh, guys. I thought they said our victim didn’t have any significant relationships?” You turn your head to the group. They all look over to you and wait for an explanation. “Look at the close-up photos of her hands. There is an indent in her left ring finger. It looks like she was wearing a ring. Maybe not for very long, but long enough to leave a mark.”

Reid comes to look over your shoulder, following where you are pointing. Everyone else goes back to their own files, picking up what you noticed.

“Do you have any theories about that, Agent [y/l/n]?” Hotch questions you, meeting your eyes as you look up. You can feel the nausea coming back, though this time it is the pressure and fear getting to you. You have to clear your throat before you speak.

“Um, I don’t have anything concrete, but there are a couple of options. My first thought is that she was engaged but didn’t tell anybody. That doesn’t make sense, though, because her fiance would have probably reported her missing. Or, the unsub made her wear a ring for some reason,” You say, lacking all of the confidence you had back in the bullpen. 

“I’m not sure what the significance of that is either, but that’s a good catch. Good job, Agent,” Hotch turns back to his own file, continuing his own personal investigation. The team goes quiet yet again, leaving you to your own devices. 

You feel good that you noticed such a small detail, but something about the whole situation still feels off to you. You spend the rest of the ride staring at that photo, hoping that something will come to you.

\---

When you land, everybody drives together to the local precinct. Since the body has already been moved, there is no reason to rush to the crime scene. The team sets up the conference room, letting the officer in charge know about everything the team has come up with so far. JJ immediately begins to diffuse the media, trying to prevent any further panic. 

The rest of the day is spent bouncing ideas off of each other, but nobody comes up with anything new or helpful. Hotch sends you all back to the hotel around seven, telling you all to eat, sleep, and be ready to go even harder the next day.

You toss your bag on the floor of the hotel room. At least they were nice enough to get you each your own room. The downfall was that they picked one of the cheapest hotels in the city. You feel dirty just looking at the bedspread that has probably never been washed. You peel back the top few layers of blankets and flop down, allowing yourself to breathe deeply for this first time since you left Quantico. 

As soon as your head hits the bed, you hear a knock at the door. Your hand instinctively goes for the gun strapped to your leg. You decided on a leg holster when choosing your set-up before you started at the BAU. You have a tendency to wear more skirts and dresses than your coworkers, so a thigh holster sounded like a better idea.

Popping up from the bed and keeping your hand on your gun, you approach the door. Looking through the peep-hole, you can see a familiar, shaggy haired doctor on the other side. Breathing a small sigh of relief, you unlatch the two deadbolts and swing the door open.

“Can I help you, Doctor?” You question him with a smile. He holds up two wrapped sandwiches as an offering. You step aside and let him into the room. The both of you decide to flip the discarded comforter over and use it as a picnic blanket on the floor instead of risking getting crumbs in your bed. You know there are ants and mice in this room somewhere, and you don’t need to invite them into your sleeping space.

“You did well today, you know,” He starts, unwrapping his sandwich. You notice that he has some sort of BLT. Simple, yet slightly unique.

“People keep saying that. It’s like you all expected me to suck or something,” You chuckle, also unwrapping your sandwich. A turkey sandwich with lettuce and tomato, toasted. A good, neutral guess.

“It’s not that we expected you to suck. We just weren’t sure how confident you would be to jump right in. It’s really intimidating to look at a picture of a dead body and try to figure out why it happened for the first time. Sorry for shoving you into the wall, by the way. I should have warned you first.”

“It’s okay. It helped to prove my point. I’m not sure I could've kept breaking it down for Morgan any further,” You say before taking a bite of your sandwich. It is in this moment that you realize you hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. It takes all of your will-power to not scarf the entire thing down.

“Yeah, he can be pretty difficult sometimes. He’s almost always on the same page as us, but he likes to play devil’s advocate. Are you sure it was okay? I felt you freeze as soon as I flipped you around. I really am sorry if I scared you,” He continues to apologize. You notice that he hasn’t taken a bite of his sandwich yet. You’re already halfway through yours. You shake your head as you swallow your bite before you continue talking.

“Really, Reid, it’s okay. You startled me, that’s all. I can take it. I got pretty beat up during my field training. Having you almost push me into a wall isn’t the worst thing I’ve been through,” you attempt to reassure him as you continue downing your sandwich. You are telling him a partial truth. He did startle you, and it was okay. Had it gone any farther, it probably would have triggered something within you. But it didn’t, so you’re fine. 

He finally takes a bite of his sandwich, satisfied that he hasn’t traumatized you. The two of you eat in silence for a short while. You finish before he does, getting up to grab your water bottle from your bag. It startles you when he begins talking again.

“Why did you choose the BAU? Not many of us end up here on purpose, and you looked pretty uneasy during the briefing today. I guess it just doesn’t make sense to me quite yet.”

“Well, I’ve always been very interested in human psychology. I started taking classes about it as soon as I could in high school. I scored a 5 on my AP psychology test, so feel free to be impressed,” you joke. You hear him chuckle a little bit, which brings back the warm feeling in your chest. “As far as looking uncomfortable, it’s a little unnerving to see a dead body like that. You all talk about it so clinically. I know that is the job, but it’s an adjustment. I’ve been trying to avoid hearing her name at all. The second I attach her face to a name, I’m going to make it personal. I don’t really have the skills to distance myself yet. It’s a thing I need to work on. But I really am happy to be here. I feel like it was meant to be, you know?”

He nods in agreement, taking a sip of his own water. 

“Most of us didn’t choose the BAU. They chose it for us. We are picked because we’re good at what we do. It’s always very impressive when someone can get in without being pulled from law enforcement or another FBI division.”

You blush a little bit at the complement.

“Dr. Reid, did you just say I’m impressive?” You don’t even attempt to hide the grin growing on your face.

“Don’t call me Doctor. And yes, I did. I can’t even fathom how hard you had to work to get here. I have three PhDs, and sometimes I even feel like I don’t fit in.”

You try not to let your smile falter at the backhanded compliment. You’re sure he didn’t mean it, but it still stings a little. You make the impulse decision to ignore his wishes. Even if he didn’t mean it, you can at least throw the attitude back at him.

“Well, Dr. Reid, I’m no super genius, but I can certainly dissect a person. Like you said, I’m good at what I do, and I can only get better from here,” You say with a cocky edge to your voice. You watch as he goes still, and you know you’ve made a mistake. He gets up and picks up his sandwich wrapper, holding his hand out for yours. You stand up next to him and begin to fold the comforter. He comes back to help you, still staying silent.

“I’m sorry that I upset you by not listening to you. I really didn’t mean it. I know it doesn’t make it better, but I sort of thought you were joking,” you say quietly as you fold the blanket together. He doesn’t meet your eyes as you finish your task. He grabs his phone and key card off the floor before moving to the door. 

“It’s okay. Have a good night,” he says with a small, clearly fake smile. 

“Oh wait! Don’t forget this! I know how badly it sucks to be without it when you spend the night in a hotel,” You grab his water bottle off the dresser and run to meet him at the door. He takes it from your hand and gives you a small nod.

He leaves you in your room, alone. You were told several times today that you are doing a good job. You are where you were always meant to be. But being left alone with the thought that you hurt the feelings of one of your new coworkers, the one who has been the nicest to you, leaves you feeling like you have failed on day one.


	3. When it All Comes Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty okay at setting up a case, but I'm terrible at filling out details and ending it. Please forgive the many obvious plot holes. This story is mainly about the fluff and not the cases. Sorry!
> 
> And I may or may not have already written the first nine chapters of this story.... whoops.
> 
> Also, I read through each chapter a few times before publishing, but I know there are still some errors that I miss. There is no way I'm letting anybody who knows me in real life read my work, so it is what it is.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

You spend the rest of the night in bed, scrolling through your phone until your eyes won’t stay open anymore. You set your alarm for an ungodly early hour. You enjoy getting up before the sun, feeling like you have so much time left in the day. Tonight, however, it feels like there is no such thing as enough time. It hurts you to fall asleep knowing that there might be another girl out there, terrified and in pain.

\---

You get out of bed five minutes before your alarm is set to go off. You think you might have fallen asleep for about an hour. There is a coffee shop across the street from the hotel that opens early enough, so you throw on some casual clothes and walk over.

As you wait for your order at the counter, you look around the shop and notice JJ sitting at a table alone. She looks like she might have the case file open, but you can’t tell from this distance. When your drink is ready, you take it and walk over to her.

“Hey, is it alright if I sit with you?” You ask quietly, trying not to startle her. It doesn’t work, though, and she jumps at the sound of your voice.

“Oh! Yes, of course. What are you doing awake this early?” She scoots her drink and the file back towards herself so you have room to set your stuff down. Sitting across from her, you take a sip of your drink and relish in the sweet caffeine that would soon be entering your bloodstream.

“I could ask you the same thing. I just couldn’t seem to fall asleep last night. The possibility of another girl being out there was too much for me. I was running scenarios in my head over and over again,” you explain, still sipping on your drink. She nods a little.

“You’ll learn to not let it get to you. It’ll take time, but you’ll learn to distance yourself. You won’t be as helpful if you’re too tired. As for me, I’m awake because my child has me trained to wake up at five in the morning, even when he’s not around. I like to take the time to enjoy my breakfast and catch up on some light reading,” she replies as she lifts the case file for you to see. She’s taken all of the photos out so that nobody can tell what she is reading without looking closely. 

“Did you find out anything new? I know you’re not into the whole profiling thing, but I’ve heard you’ve saved the day on a number of cases,” you try to phrase it as best you can without it coming off as an insult that she’s not a profiler. She seems to understand well enough what you are going for.

“Not really. Garcia gave me a short list of girls who have supposedly committed suicide over the past several months. There are a handful that might fit the MO, but there’s no way to tell without exhuming the bodies. At this point, no judge is going to allow that. I’ve talked to our victim’s family as well. They said they know nothing about any sort of fiance, but we were already thinking she may have kept him a secret. It just feels like we’ve hit a dead end here,” JJ sighs. As you nod and make a grunt of agreement, her phone begins to chime on the table between the two of you. 

“Hello, this is Agent Jennifer Jereau from the Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

She makes several noises of affirmation before thanking the person on the other line and hanging up. She stands and grabs her things off of the table.

“You may want to put on some nicer clothes. Another girl was just reported missing. She was supposed to visit her parents house last night but never showed up,” JJ explains quickly.

“Why do they think it is related to our case?” You question. Girls go missing every day, and your case had very little traction right now.

“Because the girl is a 22 year old blonde female who attends a local university. She has very few friends and usually has limited contact with her family. She fits the victimology almost perfectly. It’s the best lead we’ve got. I’ll go get the others and meet you back in the parking lot in 20,” She finishes as she packs up her things. You stand as well, downing the rest of your coffee as quickly as possible before following her out the door. 

You run back to your room and throw on a more professional outfit. You are the youngest member of the BAU at the moment, even beating Reid. You managed to get a hefty amount of experience right out of college, landing you a position on the team shortly before your 25th birthday. 

You also look the part of the youngest member on the team. You try to embrace the business attire as much as you can, but you still try to keep it youthful. You throw on a maroon button down top, rolling the sleeves up to the elbows. You pull on a pair of black tights and slide a high waisted circle skirt over top. It is hemmed a couple inches above your knee, just low enough to conceal your thigh holster. You’ve learned during your professional career that it is not necessarily the style of clothing that makes it more professional, but the quality. You toss on some black oxford style shoes, leaving your heels behind for the day. You can run and fight in heels, but it’s definitely not the preferred option. You quickly pin up your hair in a loose circle braid, one of the many skills you acquired in college. It’s cute enough to be professional, but it keeps your hair out of your face while you work.

You hesitate but ultimately decide to put on a touch of makeup before running back out the door. You’re still making first impressions, but you don’t have time to go over the top today. 

As you arrive in the parking lot, most of the team is already there. You hop in the passenger seat of Hotch’s car, since he requested that you stick close to him for your first case. Rossi gets in the seat behind you, kneeing the back of your seat to indicate that he wants you to scoot it forward. You see Reid and JJ jump in the car next to you, and Morgan and Emily take the car parked on the other side. While you look around and take in the mild chaos, you meet Reid’s eyes for a moment before he looks away. JJ looks between the two of you and makes a face. You shrug your shoulders at her before all three cars begin to pull away from the hotel and head to the precinct. 

When you arrive at the station, Hotch begins to bark out orders. JJ and Emily are going to the newest potential victim’s house. Rossi and Morgan are headed back to the dorm where the first body was found. You, Reid, and Hotch are staying at the precinct to see if there is any breakthrough.

Hours pass with no progress. The family has no clue who their daughter’s friends are or where exactly she was coming from. The initial crime scene has mostly been cleaned up, so there isn’t much that Rossi and Morgan can comb through. You and Reid stand side by side in front of the whiteboard, not speaking, hoping something is going to jump out at you.

“Wait. I’ve got it.”

Your sudden outburst startles both Hotch and Reid. You move closer to the board. Maybe you really do need glasses.

“Obviously this guy is targeting single women, aged roughly twenty to twenty-four years old. Young, blonde, beautiful. Our first victim was found with a ring indent on her left ring finger. This guy clearly has some traumatic history with a blonde woman he was either engaged or married to. But,” you say loudly, for emphasis, “there is no way he could have gotten in and out of those buildings undetected unless he’s under the age of, like, 26. You need to have an ID to get into a dorm building, unless you look like you belong and someone holds the door for you.” 

You pull out your phone and dial the number that you’re sure will soon become your favorite contact.

“Garcia! I need you to see if there are any blonde women, aged 20-24, that have died in tragic accidents over the past year. They would likely be married. Think of something like a car going off of a bridge or falling on a hike or something,” You rattle off, hoping she can keep up with you. 

“I got you babe, give me one minute,” Garcia says before going silent. You keep her on the line with you. You know she is going to find exactly what you are looking for. Hotch looks like he is holding his breath, and Reid is looking at you with a blank stare. You can’t quite place the emotion he is feeling, but you don’t think it’s very nice. After what feels like an eternity, but is probably more like two minutes, Garcia chimes in again.

She gives you the name of a woman who fell on a hike with her husband six months ago. They were hiking one of the fourteeners when she slipped and fell to her death. She happened to be pregnant at the time.You get the name and address of her husband before ending the call and running out of the precinct. Hotch calls the others to tell them where you are going. 

Minutes later, you arrive at a nice looking house in an upper class neighborhood. If you didn’t know any better, this would actually look like a nice place to live. You stay in the car while waiting for the others to arrive. Hotch turns towards you, and Reid leans forward from the back seat.

Hotch speaks quickly, briefing you on his plan. 

“Agent [y/l/n], you are closest in age to his late wife. I want you to go up and pose as a neighbor asking for something. You don’t resemble her enough that I think you’ll be in danger, but it’s enough to catch him off guard. We’ll sneak in the back to try and secure the hostage. He hasn’t used any weapons before, so I don’t have reason to assume he’ll come to the door armed. You have your gun on you, just in case?” You nod at him, placing your hand over where your gun is hidden on your thigh.

“You can’t just send her out there alone on her first case, are you insane?” Reid says incredulously from the back seat. Hotch just holds his hand up.

“It’s the best plan we’ve got. I’m afraid that he’s going to get more suspicious when cars start pulling up. I don’t want him to panic and kill the hostage. [Y/n], are you good to go?”

You nod before hopping out of the car. You don’t want to hear any more of Reid’s protesting from the back seat. He may be mad at you, and he may not trust you, but you know what you are capable of. As you stand up, you adjust your skirt and pop open the top few buttons on your shirt. Hotch raises his eyebrows, but you just shrug your shoulders and check yourself in the side mirror. You probably should have worn more makeup today. 

You can feel the tightening in your throat again. The anxiety comes creeping back in at the idea of what is about to happen. You trained for this, but it doesn’t make the moment any less scary. 

You walk up the front steps of a beautiful navy blue, two story house with white trim. It’s the type of house you always dream of buying if you ever have a family. You’re a little impressed that such a young couple could own a house this nice. 

You knock on the door a couple of times and wait for an answer. A couple of minutes pass with silence as the only reply. You resist the urge to turn and look towards the car, just in case the unsub is watching. You knock again, and you can hear footsteps approaching the door. When it opens, you see a young man, quite a bit taller than you, with dark hair and very tired eyes. You launch into your spiel about how you moved in recently and are doing some renovation projects but are missing the tools you need. You throw in a couple of tangents about your life that are completely unnecessary but good at wasting his time. The man looks impatient, but is polite enough to listen to you talk. Hotch was right. You aren’t enough to throw him off, but you are enough to keep him interested. 

You hear the sound of more cars stopping down the street. In your periphery, you can see Hotch and Reid moving through the back of the house, but you don’t dare to take your eyes off of the unsub. God bless open floor plans with good visibility.

You hear a small creak come from the back of the house. As if in slow motion, the man reaches out to grab you and pull you into the house. You see Reid and Hotch freeze in the kitchen. One of them stepped on a creaky floorboard, and the whole situation was suspicious enough to give you away. The split second it takes to regain your bearings is too long, and the man lands a solid punch to the side of your face, knocking you sideways. It hurts like hell, but it gives you an excuse to flip the situation.

You move with the punch, throwing yourself at the floor. You stay down for a moment, facing away from him and trying to find something to pin on this guy. You can’t shoot a man without a really good reason. Your head lands near a cold air return vent. Faintly, you hear what sounds like a whine or a groan coming from the other side of the vent. In your mind, that solidifies your decision. 

You whimper quietly, playing up the fact that you are hurt. The man doesn’t seem to be going after Reid or Hotch, but instead stays standing over you. You can hear him moving behind you, and it sounds like he’s pulling something out of his pocket. You hear a small click that makes your blood run cold. 

The sound of a pocket knife clicking open. 

It takes a fraction of a second for you to make your final choice. 

As quickly as he pulled the first punch, you flip yourself back over to face up towards him. You see the knife in his hand, and he’s coming down at you. Before you even feel your body move, you’ve got your gun out of your holster, the safety is off, and you pull the trigger.


	4. When You Fall Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Vomit, blood, slightly graphic depictions of violence, negative self talk

You don’t hear the deafening noise of your gun firing. But what you do feel is the weight of a fully grown man collapsing as dead weight on top of you, and it knocks the wind out of you. As you struggle to refill your lungs, you can feel the warmth of his blood spreading between your bodies. 

It takes less than ten seconds for Hotch and Reid to make it to you. Emily, Rossi, Morgan, and JJ all burst through the front door. They don’t realize that you’re trapped right on the other side, and you’re nailed in the shoulder with the corner of the door. You cry out in pain, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You think it’s more from the shock of what’s happening than the pain itself. JJ stays with you while the other three move away to search the house. You’re paralyzed with fear, too startled to move.

Hotch rolls the unsub’s body off of you, confirming that he is actually dead. You shot him in the chest, the best you could do in the brief time you had. You are completely covered in the blood that escaped his body before the boys could make it over to you. Reid sits on the bottom step of the staircase right next to the door, and he pulls you up into a sitting position. He allows you to rest your back against his chest while you regain your breath. You can hear JJ asking you questions, but the words aren’t quite making it to your brain.

You just shot a man.

You killed him.

You were trained for this. It was going to happen eventually. But you still feel like you need to vomit. 

You fly out of Reid’s arms and out the front door of the house. Everyone jumps back in surprise at your sudden movement. It’s all you can do to not vomit before you make it to the bushes lining the front porch. Your body decides it needs to make your shock known, and you empty your stomach into the shrubs. Nobody follows you out of the house. You hope it’s to give you privacy and not to judge how you are handling the situation. You can see the neighbors peeking out of their windows, some covering their mouths at the sight of you covered in blood. 

You turn around and head back into the house, closing your eyes so you don’t have to look at the blood and the dead body.

“Can I please wait in the car?” You ask quietly. You feel a small hand grab yours as JJ leads you back out to the street, walking in front of you to try and cover you the best she can. She opens the back door to one of the SUVs and gives you space to climb in. You scoot all the way over and she climbs in after you. She reaches over the back seat into the trunk area and hands you a towel. You use it mostly to cover yourself, as the blood dried too quickly to be wiped off. 

JJ sits in silence with you, not forcing you to talk until you’re ready. You can hear about a dozen officers milling around outside of the car. After a few minutes, an ambulance pulls up with its sirens blaring loudly. Another pulls up only moments later. You see Morgan and Emily walk out of the house with a young blonde woman. She is covered in bruises, and you can see the tears streaming down her face, even from this distance.

She’s alive.

But you still killed somebody.

You’re no better than him. 

Before you have a chance to get lost in your own head, Rossi taps on your window. You roll it down just a crack so you can hear him speak.

“You need to get checked out by the medics. I can walk in front of you so nobody sees you, if you want,” Rossi explains. You look back at him with dead eyes. 

“I’m fine. He didn’t even have a chance to get to me before I shot him,” You say, deadpan. 

“Um, I think the giant wound on your cheek says otherwise,” he retorts, using his hand to gesture at the left side of his own face. You completely forgot that you got punched. At the mention of it, you can now feel the pain radiating from your left temple all the way down to your jaw. 

You didn’t lock the car when you got in, so he opens the door to reach in and pull you out. You shake off his grip, not wanting to look weaker than you already do, as you walk yourself to the unoccupied ambulance. At this moment, you want nothing more than to go back to your hotel room and drown yourself in a bottle of wine. 

You see Hotch and Reid standing on the front porch, watching you as you take a seat on the back bumper of the ambulance. The paramedics do a basic neurological test to rule out a severe concussion or brain injury, but they tell you that you should take it easy anyways. The cut shouldn’t leave much of a mark, but there is going to be a nasty bruise for a while. The longer you sit out where everyone can see, the worse your headache gets. Rossi stays with you the whole time, escorting you back to the car when you are cleared. 

Shortly, Hotch and Reid make their way to the car. JJ stays with you in the back seat, allowing you to hold her hand. She still hasn’t said anything. Out of the whole team, she seems to be the softest, but not in a bad way. She’s incredibly strong and smart, but she knows exactly what people need and how to be there for them. 

Hotch drives the four of you to the hotel. He tells you that you can stay and get cleaned up, but the three of them need to head back to the precinct to wrap up some paperwork. He tells you that you did a good job, but you can’t meet his eyes. Instead, you look towards JJ, who is giving you a soft look that shows she understands how you feel, and that you should probably go eat some food and take care of yourself. You nod to all of them as you enter through the side door of the hotel, hoping to avoid any unsuspecting patrons. 

Luckily, you don’t pass anybody on the way to your room. You let yourself in, but you can’t seem to get your feet to move very far. 

You killed that man. 

You’re no better than he is. 

You have his blood all over your body. 

You make your way to the wall and slide down it, praying there isn’t any wet blood on your back. You curl your knees up to your chest and hug them tight. You note that you don’t feel your gun in its holster, but that’s a problem for later. You wait for the tears to fall, but you don’t feel them coming. You feel completely dry and numb. 

After a few minutes, you hear a knock on your door. You don’t move, hoping that it’s just housekeeping and they’ll go away. You left the ‘do not disturb’ sign up as a precaution. About 30 seconds later, they knock again. 

“[Y/n], I know you’re in there. I feel like someone would say something if they saw a woman covered in blood wandering the halls.”

You hear Reid’s voice on the other side of the door. Of course. He’s mad at you, but he still has to be so freaking nice and come and check on you. You push yourself off of the floor and make your way to the door.

“How did you know I wasn’t already in the shower?” You ask with a small hint of snark in your voice. Reid pushes past you and closes the door.

“Because I know that the first time I killed somebody, I sat on the floor for several hours trying to convince myself to get up and do something. But I couldn’t, because I felt broken and terrible.”

“Why do you assume that I’m anything like you?” You shoot back. You don’t mean for there to be so much malice in your voice, but maybe if you’re mean enough, he’ll leave you alone. You think you want to be alone right now. 

“Well, after today, you’ve proven yourself to be at least as brilliant as I am,” he smiles down at you from where he’s standing, near the end of the bed. You stand there, covered in blood, looking up at him.

Why is he being so nice?

You killed a man.

You’re a murderer. 

Reid notices the instant your breath catches in your throat, and he rushes over to catch you as you drop to your knees, sobbing. You sit like that for longer than you care to admit. You are tangled in Reid’s arms, ugly crying, in the middle of the floor. He doesn’t move or try to say anything. After a while, you cry yourself dry, hiccuping as you try to take deep breaths. 

“I killed someone,” you say, almost so quiet that you’re not sure he hears you.

“You killed him because he was going to kill you.”

He rests his chin on top of your head, and you can feel the vibrations in his chest as he talks to you.

“I’m a murderer. I’m no better than him.”

“[Y/n]. If we were all considered murderers for killing unsubs in self defense, most of us could be deemed serial killers. It’s not your fault.”

You think you hear his voice crack a little when he says that it’s not your fault.

You continue to sit in silence, understanding that arguing with Reid isn’t going to get you anywhere. 

“You should really wash all of this blood off of you. It’s probably going to take a while to get it off at this point,” He says, very matter-of-fact. You nod a little against his chest.

You move to stand up, and he rises with you. When you are almost all the way up, a sharp pain shoots through your head, starting right about where you got punched. The pain brings you to your knees again, and you let out a sharp cry as your hand flies to your head. Reid manages to catch you before your knees slam into the ground.

“Okay, this is going to be harder than I thought. Are you okay if I help you? This is going to be super weird, but I can’t leave you covered in blood all night.”

You hear clear hesitation in his voice over the ringing in your ears.

“Reid, I would rather die on the spot than have you give me a sponge bath.” You mean for it to come out as a joke, but there’s more venom in your voice than you intended. You feel his grip loosen on you a little. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out like that. It just hurts, and I’m embarrassed, and I really just want to eat my feelings and sleep for three days.”

“Well, like I said, I can’t leave you like this. If you let me help you, then I can order us some food. You also can’t sleep for three days here, but maybe once we get home?”

You can still hear a little bit of hurt in his voice, but he readjusts his grip on you. It’s not until this moment that you notice how he is holding you. He’s got the underside of your left arm in one hand, with his other arm wrapped around your waist. It would be so easy for his hand to go too low or too high. You know so many men that would immediately jump at the chance to hold you inappropriately. But he has his hand very deliberately in the perfect spot. 

Why is he so nice?

You take a deep breath and look up at him. He nods back at you, holding almost all of your weight as the pain rushes through you again. He gives you a moment to collect yourself before slinging your left arm over his shoulders and tightening his grip around your waist. It’s a little awkward with the height difference, but it works. 

You start laughing as you walk together to the bathroom. Reid stops walking and looks down at you, clearly confused. You take a moment to try and pull yourself together.

“I’m sorry,” you say through a fit of laughter, “I think I’m losing it a little bit. This is just too ridiculous. It’s my second day on the job, and my coworker is carrying me to the bathroom. I can’t hold myself up because I killed a man that punched me in the head. I just had a little flashback to my cheerleading days in high school when I got kicked in the head and got a concussion. It’s not really that funny, I think I’m just a little loopy.”

“Really? You were a cheerleader?” Reid asks, the shock very clear in his voice.

“Yes, Reid, I was a cheerleader. A flyer on our varsity team. But that is a conversation for another day,” you say, trying to get him to continue walking towards the bathroom. He begins to move with you. As you look up at his face, his mouth is still hanging open a little bit, and it looks like he is contemplating the meaning of life itself.


	5. Where You Make it Work

Standing in the doorway of the bathroom together, with your arm slung over his shoulder and his around your waist, you and Reid debate silently about how the next hour is going to go. You obviously can’t keep yourself upright due to your mild concussion. But you’d also rather die than have Reid, a coworker that you’ve known for all of 48 hours, bathe you. 

You clear your throat loudly before pitching your idea.

“Okay. Don’t take this personally, but I would really rather you not see me naked,” You start, trying to phrase your request as gently as possible.

“Don’t worry. At this point in my life, I’m used to most girls gagging at the thought of me seeing them naked,” Reid replies. You think it’s intended as a joke, but there’s still a hint of hurt laced in his voice.

“No self-deprecating jokes are allowed in this hotel room. Anyways, there is a detachable shower head. If you can pop that off the wall so it’s hanging down, I can sit on the floor to shower.”

Reid scoffs at your comment.

“You do realize you have to sit down and stand up to get in and out of the shower, right?”

“I’m really not appreciating the attitude here, Reid. I was getting to that. If I sit on the edge of the tub or something, I think I can get most of my clothes off out here. Then, you can help me into the shower. I’ll close the curtain and finish undressing. I’ll shower, you’ll toss me the bathrobe, help me get out, and bam, we’re done,” you explain simply.

Reid nods before leading you over to sit on the closed toilet seat. He averts his eyes as you begin to undress yourself. As you reach back to unzip your skirt, red-hot pain rips through your right shoulder. You can’t help but let out a small squeak.

“Can you please tell Morgan that he’s not allowed to kick down any more doors without checking that I’m not on the other side?” You choke out through gritted teeth, holding back the tears that immediately form in your eyes. Reid turns to you, a sad look on his face.

“Yeah, he nailed you pretty hard, didn’t he,” he says, coming to kneel in front of you.

“Can you please unzip my skirt? I can’t reach back to do it myself,” you whisper. You stop trying to hold the tears back. You’re way past being embarrassed, and this can’t possibly get any worse. You’ve already ugly cried all over him, what more damage can you do?  
Reid reaches around your back, quickly unzipping your skirt. His hands don’t hover, and he immediately backs up to give you your space. He turns around so you can continue to undress yourself.

It’s easy enough to slide your skirt off, and you kick it towards the wall. Slowly, you’re able to undo each of the buttons on your shirt, regretting your outfit decisions with each one you pop open. As you shift your shoulders to pull it off, you can feel the burning pain shoot through your shoulder again. You groan and let your head fall back to hit the wall. Reid whips his head around to check that you’re okay.

“Um, maybe let’s not smack our head against the wall? You already have a concussion, you don’t need to cause any further brain injury,” Reid says, fully turning towards you. You hold your position, eyes closed, refusing to move.

“I can’t deal with the jokes anymore, Reid. My head is pounding, I can’t move my arm very far, and I’m currently working through the most humiliating experience of my life. I know it seems like I cope using humor, but I think I’ve hit my limit for today. Can you please just help me take my shirt off?” You say without opening your eyes. It seems like every time you move, a new pain shows up somewhere.

“I can, but I need you to lean forward. I’m not helping you get undressed if you’re going to be dead weight. That’s just weird,” He says flatly. You can hear his voice getting closer to you. You shift your weight forward and open your eyes. Reid kneels down in front of you, still keeping a respectful distance. 

You wiggle your left arm, trying to get it free on your own, but the rolled up sleeves are too snug to get loose. Reid grabs your arm, stopping you. He touches you so lightly, it feels like he’s afraid he’s going to break you. He starts by rolling your sleeves back down and tugging the shirt off of your shoulders. He winces when your right shoulder is uncovered. Looking down, you can’t quite get the full picture, but you can see black and purple spots beginning to cover your shoulder and upper arm. 

Reid tosses your shirt over to where you kicked your skirt. He looks you up and down, assessing you in an almost clinical fashion. You avoid his gaze by beginning to undo your thigh holster. 

“You don’t happen to know where my gun ended up, do you?”

“Hotch grabbed it when you ran out of the house. He said he was going to hold onto it and clean it for you. I’m sure he’ll give it back when we get on the jet tomorrow,” Reid replies. You nod, still focused on undoing the last strap of the holster. You toss it on the ever-growing pile of your stuff in the corner. You motion for Reid to turn back around so you can continue undressing. 

You’re able to pull your tights off, adding them to the pile as well. You let out a small sigh, content that you’re able to do something on your own. The feeling is short lived, however, once you realize that you are now sitting in your tank top, bra, and underwear, alone in a bathroom with Reid. He’s going to have to touch you to get you into the tub, and there is no way you are getting your tank top off on your own. You sniffle quietly as tears fall from your eyes yet again. Reid stays facing the wall.

“I can’t do this,” You start, your words getting caught in your throat as you choke back tears. Reid turns but doesn’t approach quite yet. “I thought I could handle this job, but I can’t. I hyped myself up so much, convincing myself that this is where I’m meant to be, but clearly it’s not. I can’t control my emotions. I’m going to get someone hurt. I can’t do this.”

“You can do this, and you will,” Reid reaches for you, hooking his arms under yours to pull you up. You’re able to hold most of your own weight before the crushing pain in your head comes back. The two of you sort of waddle together towards the tub. He holds enough of your weight for you to step over the edge before he sets you down on the floor. 

“I need help getting my tank top off. There’s no way I’m going to be able to pull it over my head without hurting myself.”

Reid nods in understanding. He detaches the shower head from the wall, leaving it to hang down before taking a seat on the edge of the tub. He reaches for your left arm first.

“Wait. I just- I have a weird request. I know it sounds stupid, but can you please close your eyes, or at least not look at me while you do it?” You ask, your voice hardly above a whisper.

“It’s not stupid. I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” Reid replies, squeezing his eyes shut almost comically tight. You let out a little huff of a laugh. 

He begins with your left arm. You try to help him as much as possible, pulling your arm through the hole and tilting your head so it can be pulled off easier. As he moves to pull the shirt off of your right arm, one of his hands brushes across your stomach. You know it’s not his fault, and he didn’t mean to do it, but you feel your body retract away from him, slamming back against the shower wall. As you fly back, your undershirt slides off your right arm and is left in his hands.

“Hey! I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” Reid asks quickly, still not looking at you.

“No, yes, it’s okay. I’m fine. It’s fine,” You reply, the tone of your voice betraying your words. You know he didn’t mean to. You forced him to help you with his eyes closed. He isn’t going to hurt you. You repeat these thoughts over and over in your mind, hoping to convince yourself that it’s true.

Reid stands back up, his back still towards you. Both of you are silent for the next several minutes, trying to figure out what to do next. Your breaths are still shallow and quick, the sudden anxiety making itself even more evident.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I really didn’t mean to touch you like that. But aren’t you, uh, going to need help getting your bra off? I’m not sure I can do that without touching you.” He asks awkwardly. You regain a little confidence, laughing a little at his discomfort with the whole situation.

“Reid, I have been wearing bras for most of my 24 years of life. I know how to unhook it with one hand, it’s fine,” You joke. It doesn’t seem to elicit any response from him. You take a few deep breaths, trying to get your brain to calm back down. He pulls the shower curtain closed, and you hear him walk across the bathroom and start to turn the doorknob. 

“Wait. Can you stay, please? I don’t want to be alone. Just in case something happens, you know?” You ask. He doesn’t reply verbally, but you can hear Reid’s back slide down the wall across the room. 

Quickly, you remove your remaining undergarments, tossing them over the shower curtain in the direction of your clothing pile. You pray that they land where you intended, and that you don’t embarrass Reid any further. 

You turn on the shower and begin to wash yourself, watching the water run pink as the blood begins to rinse off your skin. You can feel the stress of the day begin to melt away as the water runs down the drain. The two of you sit in silence while you wash your hair and clean yourself off. It takes about twenty minutes to get your skin completely clean. You poke your head out from behind the curtain, looking for Reid. His head whips to face you when he hears the curtain move.

“Hey, did I get all of it off?” You ask, making a funny face at him. The question is partially serious, but it’s mostly intended to break the tension you can feel building in the room. He looks you over momentarily.

“You look perfect,” he says, using his confident profiler voice. You can’t quite read the emotion on his face, so you duck back into the shower to finish up.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You ask simply.

“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” 

“I guess I didn’t phrase that very well. There is being nice, and then there is sitting on the bathroom floor with a coworker that you’ve only known for two days while she washes the blood of a dead man off of herself. I feel like most people wouldn’t do that.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m not like most people-”

“Yes, Reid, we all know you’re a genius.” You cut him off, pretending to sound annoyed.

“Hey, don’t interrupt. I was going to say that I want to make sure you are okay. I don’t think anybody on the team had someone die on top of them during their first case. Plus, everyone else came from jobs where seeing death was pretty normal. You seem really interesting, and I want to make sure that you have the support you need and don’t make the decision to leave prematurely.”

“You let me ugly cry on you and helped me undress myself because you find me interesting?”

“When you put it like that, it does sound kind of creepy.”

You both laugh together while you finish rinsing the conditioner out of your hair. You shut off the water and hold your hand out for a towel. Reid hands one over, followed by the hotel bathrobe. You secure it as best you can before opening the curtain. 

“Hey, look at that, you’re human again,” Reid jokes as he walks over to you. You roll your eyes as he hooks his arms under yours again. You grit your teeth as you stand, bracing for the inevitable pain. Once the worst of it passes, you step out of the tub and walk out of the bathroom and over to the bed with Reid’s assistance. Reid lets you go and backs up as soon as your legs hit the bed. 

“Do you want me to order food, or-”

“No. I’m okay, thanks. I think I’ll be okay from here. I kind of just want to go to bed early, if you don’t mind.”

He nods before collecting his bag from the floor, making his way to the door. 

“Thank you. For everything. I know I’ve been a little all over the place this evening. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. Apparently I don’t process trauma very well,” You let out an awkward laugh as he turns back to you.

“Don’t mention it,” Reid shoots you a smile as he exits your room.

For the second night in a row, you are left alone in your hotel room, baffled by the behavior of your new coworker. 

You don’t even bother to change out of the robe before you tuck yourself under the covers, praying that you’ll be able to get some good rest tonight.


	6. When it Goes Back to Normal

You wake to the sound of a gentle knock on your door. 

“We leave in an hour. Let us know if you need any help,” JJ calls from the other side.

You choose not to respond. You suck in a deep breath before sitting up quickly, prepared for the blinding pain. It still rushes through you, but it isn’t as incapacitating as the night before. You push yourself up and out of bed. Examining your face in the mirror, you cringe at the large purple bruise that spreads across a large portion of the left side of your face. Pulling down the top of your bathrobe, you note that your right shoulder has the same color pattern. You feel much more mobile this morning, and you’re grateful that you won’t have to ask for much more help.

You ultimately decide to throw on some casual clothes for the trip home, hoping that nobody will give you a hard time for it.

\---

The trip back to Quantico is entirely uneventful. Hotch hands you your gun when you hop into the car with him. Everyone spends the plane ride home making jokes and working on their individual hobbies. Nobody makes any mention of what happened the morning prior. When you land, you get into Hotch’s car to be dropped off at the office. Upon arriving at the building, you sling your go back over your left shoulder, collecting the last of your things.

“Hey, [y/n],” Hotch calls, catching you before you exit his car. You turn back with your eyebrows raised. “Don’t forget your case files. I expect your report on my desk by 5:00pm on Friday.”

You take the file he has in his hand, and a small smile makes its way to your face.

“Of course, Sir,” You say before closing the car door. It’s nice that nobody is treating you like a wounded baby animal. It makes the pain a little easier to deal with.

\---

The team is given two days off before they are expected back to the office on Friday. You spend the majority of your time working through your report. Page by page, you fill in the necessary details. You highlight, paperclip, and organize the file to perfection, still striving for the approval of your new supervisors.

Early on Thursday evening, you hear the doorbell ring throughout your apartment. Opening your phone, you check to see who’s on the other side. Immediately, you’re greeted by the face of Penelope Garcia, who is carrying several bags. She’s already halfway into your apartment before you can even get the door fully open. 

“I heard you had a difficult first case, so I brought you some options to make you happy again,” Garcia starts speaking as she lays the bags on your dining room table.

“Garcia, how do you even know where I… Nevermind.” You stop yourself, answering your own question before you even finish it. 

“Option number one, I have a variety of ice cream flavors and some sappy romance movies. Option number two, wine and pasta to go with an action movie. Option three, chocolate and horror movies,” she steps back to show you the array on the table.

“Penelope, you really didn’t need to do all of this,” You protest. You’re secretly happy that she cares this much about you already, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Reid told me what happened,” Garcia admits. You feel your face heat up at the thought of anybody knowing what happened in your hotel room.

“What exactly did he tell you?”

“Just that you had to shoot the unsub, and it was really hard on you. He didn’t really go into detail.”

You try to not let your feelings of relief show. As much as you appreciate what Reid did, you don’t need the entire team knowing about your mental breakdown. 

“Let’s do ice cream and romance movies. I’m not feeling like getting my adrenaline pumping tonight, if you don’t mind?”

Garcia nods and promptly throws the wine and pasta in your fridge for you to enjoy later. You grab two bowls from the cabinet, as well as a couple spoons, and set them out on the counter. Garcia just shakes her head at you, handing you an entire pint of ice cream. You grab a spoon and take a seat on your couch, shamelessly digging into the container. 

You spend the evening together watching cheesy romance movies. Once the sun goes down, Garcia excuses herself.   
“It’s late. I should get going. I hope I helped take your mind off of things for a little while,” Penelope says as she heads for the door.

“You absolutely did. Thank you so much for coming over.”

You wave goodbye to each other before you shut the door, retreating back to your bed for the night. As you close your eyes, you’re met with the image of a dead body on the floor in front of you. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling until you can’t keep them open anymore. You’re not sure when sleep overtakes you, but it definitely doesn’t come as soon as you’d like.

\---

The following day at the office is rather unexciting. You turn in your report as soon as you arrive. Hotch thanks you, and he suggests that you practice writing some mock-up reports to gain some more experience. You spend the day doing just that, only stopping for a quick lunch break. Everyone else is still working on their reports for the case, having spent their days off relaxing.

Just as you pack up to leave, Emily stops by your desk.

“Hey, we’re all going out for drinks tonight. You should join us. Consider it a celebration of your first week on the team.”

“I don’t know, Emily. I’m still really bruised up, and I’m pretty tired,” You plead, knowing that she’s going to continue pushing.

“Let me rephrase. You’re coming out for drinks tonight. I’ll pick you up at 8:00. Dress nice, we’re going somewhere fancy. Everyone will be there. Even Rossi and Hotch are coming for a couple hours.”

You sigh, knowing that you can’t fight with her.

“Well, then I better be getting home to start covering up the giant bruise on my face. It’s not exactly the conversation starter that I would like to use tonight.”

Emily just laughs at you as you continue to pack your things. You walk out to your respective cars together, and you yell your address at her before you both head home. 

Once home, you dive into trying to cover the bruise on your face. Your shoulder is easy enough to cover with clothes, but your face is a whole other issue. After about an hour of work, it’s at least covered enough to not be noticeable in the dim light of a bar. You tie your hair back into a loose ponytail, pulling out a few pieces to frame your face. You always get hot when you go out to drink, so it’s better to just leave the house prepared.

You decide on wearing your favorite maroon dress. It has a high neck and fits you snugly down to the waist before flaring out slightly. It hits at your upper-thigh. It’s a little shorter than you would normally feel comfortable with, but it’s appropriate for the evening’s festivities.You grab the black heels out of your go back, securing the straps around your ankles before getting up to grab your purse.

Emily shows up right on time. She looks stunning in a snug green dress. You tell her that as you get into her car. You spend the ride to the bar blasting music, trying to get yourself in the mindset for a night of drinks and partying. You still feel the small tug of anxiety in your chest, not feeling quite close enough to the team to be completely comfortable. You know that none of them would do anything to hurt you, but social situations are still a little awkward.

You arrive at a nice bar, entering arm-in-arm with Emily. Everyone else is already standing around a large table, conversing and laughing with one another. They all greet you two as you approach, shuffling to make more room. 

Looking around, you note what everyone is drinking. Each person’s drink makes perfect sense. Hotch has some sort of straight liquor on the rocks. Rossi has red wine. JJ and Garcia both have fruity looking mixed drinks. Morgan has a beer, of course. Reid appears to be drinking some sort of carbonated beverage, but it’s unclear if there is any actual alcohol in it.

Emily orders herself a beer, asking if you want anything. You get a martini, your drink of choice. You don’t like the taste of beer, and wine never feels quite right when you’re out at a bar. With a martini, you can drink it slowly enough that you never have to order more than one or two. You don’t get drunk in public, and you rarely let yourself get to the point of being tipsy.

You rejoin the group at the table, drink in hand, mostly just listening to the conversation that is flowing. Even with the chaos of the week, you feel like you can fit in with these people. It may just take a little adjusting.


	7. When Questionable Decisions are Made

The team spends the next several hours conversing and joking. They all take turns telling you stories about each other’s embarrassing moments on the job. Hotch and Rossi take off after their first drink, claiming that they’re too old to be out partying. You order water after your first martini, determined to not let your new coworkers see you make a fool of yourself.

“This place is boring. We should go to that club across the street,” Garcia says, looking down at her empty glass. She’s finished her second drink and is clearly looking for something more. Emily and Morgan jump at the idea. 

“I don’t know, you guys. I’m really not one for partying,” You protest. Emily grabs your purse and links her arm through yours again.

“Come on. Just one shot and one dance, then I’ll let you go home,” Emily says, already dragging you towards the door. You dig your heels into the ground, fighting her as much as you can.

“Hey, I’ll go if you go. We can hate it together,” You hear Reid call from behind you. As long as you have someone to be miserable with, it won’t be quite as bad. You give in to Emily, letting her pull you out the front door. Everyone follows you out of the building and across the street. 

“Emily, I’m really not dressed for this. I haven’t been to a bar like this since right after I turned 21. It was the only time I have ever been drunk in public, and I don’t exactly feel like recreating that with you guys,” You groan.

“I never said you had to get drunk. Just one drink and a few minutes on the dance floor. You’ve had a hard week, you need to reset your brain.”

Emily grabs your left hand, and JJ runs up and grabs your right, almost dragging you into the bar. Morgan follows closely behind so that you can’t turn and run. Garcia and Reid are somewhere behind you, having a discussion about who knows what.

You’re bombarded with loud club music as soon as the door opens. It feels like you hit a wall of moisture once you pass through the doorway, all of the tightly packed sweaty bodies raising the humidity level drastically. The girls drag you over to the bar, and Emily orders a round of tequila shots for everyone. You audibly groan, knowing exactly how you’re going to be feeling when you wake up in the morning. The team stands in a circle, shots in hand. You notice one very important person has his hands empty.

“Hey, I thought you said we are going to suffer together?” You yell across the circle.

“I don’t drink. I’m really just here to keep an eye on the rest of you,” Reid yells back. You roll your eyes at him. 

On the count of three, the rest of you down your shots. It burns a little more than you remember, but it’s not actually that bad. You start feeling warm, knowing that it’s already time to stop drinking for the evening, lest you end up doing something you’ll regret. 

Emily orders another round of shots, but you turn her down. It’s almost more fun to watch the rest of the group get progressively more drunk. For Prentiss and Morgan, this seems like a common occurrence. It wouldn’t surprise you if the two of them did this every weekend. You imagine that Garcia joins in more often than not as well. JJ is the one that surprises you. She has a young child at home, so it’s a little shocking that she’s more than willing to get drunk. 

After they finish their second round of drinks, Emily drags JJ to the dance floor, throwing her arms over the blonde woman’s shoulders and moving to the music. Derek and Penelope aren’t far behind them.

“You can’t convince me that JJ and Emily don’t have a thing for each other,” You lean over and whisper-yell at Reid.

“Funny enough, I don’t think Will would mind. It’s hard not to like Emily.”

You gasp and turn to him, your eyes wide.

“Reid, do you have a crush on Emily Prentiss?”

A small smile appears on his face, and he looks down at the glass of water in his hand.

“I won’t argue that she’s attractive, but she’s not really my type.”

“I don’t think anyone would argue about how attractive she is. What exactly is your type, then?”

“Someone that couldn’t snap my spine in half if she wanted to. If I didn’t know any better, it almost sounds like you have a crush on her,” Reid says jokingly. You can see him look at you in your periphery, but you’re still watching JJ and Emily dance together. You laugh a little at his statement.

“The entire team is made up of some of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen. It’s unfair, really, that I have to try and keep up with the rest of you,” You joke, looking back and meeting his eyes. He’s still got a stupid smile on his face.

“Don’t worry, you’re definitely on par with the rest of us.”

You turn away so he can’t see the blush forming on your face. When you look back at the dance floor, you see Morgan waving you over. 

“[Y/n], Reid, get your asses over here. You can’t just stand there all night,” Derek yells over the loud music.

You turn back to Reid and grab him by the arm.

“You heard the man. Let’s go!” You say as you pull Reid towards the dance floor. There’s not really a point to just waiting around at a club. Much like you did in the last bar, he digs his heels into the floor in protest. 

“I don’t dance. Sorry, but you can’t make me.”

“Watch me,” You say, sliding your hand down his arm and intertwining your fingers with his. You pull back with all of your weight, forcing him to keep taking steps forward. Your feet slide across the floor as he holds his ground, refusing to move. You assume this all looks pretty comedic from the outside. Eventually he gives in and follows behind you.

You push your way through the crowd of writhing bodies, making your way towards the middle. You still have eyes on the rest of the team, but you don’t feel the need to be bumping and grinding with Morgan any time soon. You turn back to face Reid, letting go of his hand so you can throw your arms above your head and begin dancing. He continues to stand there awkwardly, watching you bounce in time to the music. 

“Come on pretty boy! Dance with me!” You shout, spinning yourself to face away from him again. A couple moments pass before you feel Reid place his hands on your waist. He keeps them pretty high up, right where the waist seam of your dress hits. He’s so respectful it’s almost annoying. His touch is feather-light, and he’s clearly trying not to invade your personal space. 

You can feel how awkward and stiff he is behind you. You back up a little, not close enough to be flush against him, but close enough you can feel his clothes brush your back every now and again. As much as you want him to relax, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable either. It is already a little weird to be out dancing with your coworkers. 

“Loosen up a little, Reid. It’s fine, really. You’re not going to offend me,” You say over your shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.

“Are you sure? I just don’t want anything to be weird.”

You can faintly feel his breath on the back of your neck. He’s still trying to keep as much distance as possible. 

“Nothing’s weird. It’s just dancing. Let go and live a little, dude.”

With that, you grab his left hand and move it a little lower, down to your hip. You place your right hand over his, leaving it higher up on your waist. You don’t want to push him too fast and make him uncomfortable. You feel him loosen up a little bit.

As the songs flow into one another, Reid doesn’t make any sort of move. Finally giving up on the idea that he is going to make decisions for himself, you move your left hand up behind your head. You find Reid behind you, and you run your fingers through his hair. Your hand comes to rest at the back of his neck, his hair laced between your fingers. He tilts his head down towards you, and you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. 

Reid pulls you back into him, your body flush with his. He keeps his left hand on your hip, tugging on you gently and moving your bodies in sync. His right hand moves slightly, his fingers splaying out across your stomach. 

The slight shift in pressure across your body triggers something within you. With no warning, you rip yourself out of Reid’s arms and push your way through the crowd. You’re not entirely aware of your body moving, but your feet continue to carry you towards the front door of the bar. You need to get out, and you need to do it quickly. You think you hear someone calling your name, but you don’t have the mental capacity to listen. You can already feel the tears burning their way down your face.

It’s not fair. Why can’t you let anything good happen in your life?

The cool night air fills your lungs, and the drastic change in temperature almost feels suffocating. Goosebumps immediately erupt across the surface of your exposed skin. You power walk down the sidewalk a little, finding an empty patch of the wall for you to lean your body weight against. You lean back, placing your hands on your knees and allow your head to hang down.

Of course you would go and embarrass yourself like that. 

Only about ten seconds pass before you hear Reid calling your name. You look back over towards the door to see him looking towards you. His shoulders are a little slumped, lacking any of the confidence you gave him while dancing. He’s got his hands in his pockets as he slowly walks over to you.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened back there. I was having fun, but then my body just needed to get out of there. I’m sorry,” You say, refusing to look at his face.

“Don’t apologize, things happen. I was having fun too, you know. I haven’t actually been out dancing in quite a while.”

He leans against the wall next to you. You continue to sniffle, your tears falling from your face and hitting your hands, leaving small grey spots from your running makeup.

“Do you need anything? Tissues? Water? A therapist?”

You laugh dryly at his joke. He’s not really wrong.

“Why is it that every time I’m around you, I end up having some sort of mental breakdown?” You finally look up to meet his eyes. He’s looking down at you, no hint of judgement on his face.

“I think we should be less worried about why I’m always around and more worried about the frequency of your mental breakdowns.”

“I’ve been to a therapist, you know. I spent so many years trying to work through my disaster of a life. Clearly it didn’t help very much,” You look back down at your feet. Your inability to control your emotions is more than a little embarrassing. You can only imagine how it must look to the team.

“Sometimes it helps for a while, only for things to come back again. It sucks, but the human brain is quite resilient. I would know.”

You’re not quite sure if he’s making another joke about his multiple degrees, or if he’s trying to share more about himself with you. If he is trying to make a connection, you don’t take the line he throws you. The outside of a sleazy college bar doesn’t seem like the best place to share your traumas with one another. 

“If only we could just turn them off sometimes. Life would be so much easier.”

“If the human brain were simpler, we wouldn’t have a job. Really, though, is there anything I can do to help you?”

“I kind of just want to go home.”

He nods and pulls out his phone, and you assume he’s calling a cab. It arrives a few minutes later, and he opens the door for you. Once you sit down, he gestures for you to scoot over. You look back up at him, confused. 

“You didn’t honestly think I was going to send you home alone in a cab when you’re two steps away from a panic attack, did you?” He says, taking a seat next to you.

“I guess I kind of did? You’ve already done your fair share of nice things for me. It has to stop sometime.”

You lean forward to tell the cabbie your address while Reid thinks about what you said.

“It doesn’t though. There’s no limit on being nice to each other. It’s what friends do.”

You just nod, leaning back in your seat. Your eyes are starting to feel heavy from the crying, and your body is exhausted from your night of drinking. You close your eyes for just a moment, allowing them to rest. 

The ride home passes quickly. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, listening to the radio play quietly in the background. When the cab stops in front of your building, you collect your things before stepping out of the car. Before you shut the door, you dip your head back in to look at Reid. He’s distracted, looking out the window. 

“Hey Reid,” You say softly, catching his attention. “Thank you for being a really good friend.”

He looks back at you with an unreadable expression on his face. He sighs gently before speaking.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”


	8. When it Bites Back

After your night out with the team, life seems to settle down into a normal routine. You wake up, go to the office, pray JJ’s phone doesn’t ring, and come home to rest in the evening. You fall into a rhythm with the team, forming your own unique bond with each person. JJ and Garcia become your confidants, always there to listen to you if you need to talk. Morgan still pushes your buttons, but at least you can joke with each other now. Emily is your yes-woman, and she seems to have made it her personal mission to find men or women for you to hook up with, even though you turn them down every time. Hotch and Rossi are always there to back you up, supporting you in whatever you do. 

You and Reid have taken it upon yourselves to become the little siblings of the office, always slightly messing with things or playing jokes on the others. You pass notes to one another over the divider between your desks, assisting with missing details for cases. He quickly learns that even though you don’t have multiple doctorates, your brain can work almost in tandem with his. 

\---

The team is called out on a case shortly before your birthday. It’s simple enough. You all fly across the country on Monday morning, and you walk back through the doors of the office in Quantico on Thursday night. You solve the case without any additional victims being abducted, and the unsub is taken into custody without you having to shoot anybody. Hotch lets you all know that you get a three day weekend, not having to return back to the office until Monday.

After exiting the jet, while walking to your car, Emily catches your arm.

“Hey, [y/n], I have a proposition,” She says, linking her arm with yours.

“Any time you start a conversation with that, it makes me nervous. I already told you that I don’t sleep with random people.”

“No, this isn’t about you getting laid. The team is meeting at Rossi’s house tomorrow night for dinner. You’re coming.”

“So this isn’t a proposition so much as a demand?” You ask, turning to see the smile on her face. 

“Exactly. I’ll pick you up at six. Feel free to dress casually. It’ll just be us, nothing too fancy.” She lets your arm go so she can find her own car. You sigh and shake your head at her. There is no way you can ever say no when it comes to hanging out with the team.  
The group hasn’t been out drinking together since that first weekend. Emily checked in with you the next morning to make sure you were okay after leaving so suddenly. You and Reid didn’t talk any further about what happened, which you are totally fine with. 

\---

You spend the majority of Friday having an existential crisis about what to wear. Even though you are all pretty close, you still feel the deep need to impress your coworkers. It’s not like you can wear a crop top and jean shorts around them.

You ultimately decide on a skirt, though the one you choose is slightly shorter than what you’d wear to work. It’s a beautiful deep red velvet, one of your favorites. You pair it with a sleeveless high-neck black top made of a lightweight material, and you tuck it in to your skirt. You throw on a pair of black ankle boots with a short heel after deciding against wearing tights. It’s too hot out for tights right now. You opt to leave your hair down, which you rarely do when you are at the office. Classic winged eyeliner and a dark red lip to match your skirt complete your look.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you are mildly concerned that you look like your 21 year old self about to go clubbing. Just as you turn to go back to your closet, Emily calls you to let you know she’s arrived. Right on time.

You walk out to her car with a sheepish look on your face. She’s wearing a pretty tank top and some jeans. You sigh deeply.

“I feel like I look like a hooker,” You pout at her. She just laughs in return.

“Well there’s nothing wrong with being a sex worker. Besides, we all appreciate when you look really nice, some more than others,” She trails off as she maneuvers out of your parking lot.

You rest your head back against the seat before realizing exactly what she said.

“What do you mean ‘some more than others’?” You ask, whipping around to look at her with your eyes wide.

“You know Reid has a crush on you, right?”

“He does not. We’re just friends. We play practical jokes and pass notes. He’s a good friend.”

“Friend or not, that boy is in love with you. I see how he looks at you when you’re not paying attention. He thinks you look cute in red, by the way.”

You sink as far down into the seat as possible, wishing you could be swallowed whole. Emily looks over at you, seemingly stuck between pitying and making fun of you.

“What? Why is it such a big deal if he likes you?” She questions. 

“Because I don’t do relationships. You know this. I don’t want to ruin what we have. I don’t even think I like him that way.”

“You don’t think you like him that way? Or you really don’t like him that way?” She laughs as she questions you. At least this is funny to someone.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve never thought of him like that.”

“Well, you two looked like you were having a good time when we were at the club a few weeks ago.” She looks at you pointedly. You know that your face has gone completely red.

“We were just dancing! I was trying to get him to have fun! It was entirely innocent,” You protest loudly. 

“You keep telling yourself that. Either way, you look hot, and you’re going to have fun tonight. But don’t tell Reid what I told you, it was supposed to be a secret.”

“Remind me to never tell you any of my secrets,” You say in a deadpan voice. Just a couple minutes later, you turn the corner and can see Rossi’s house. This is your first time visiting, but the team has told you about it. It lives up to all of their descriptions. Now you really worry that you could’ve dressed better. 

Emily basically has to drag you out of the car to get you inside. As you pass through the doorway, it’s uncomfortably dark. You feel awkward looking for a light switch, so you opt to wait for Emily to come in behind you. 

Suddenly, the lights turn on, and your team members all jump out from various doorways. 

“Surprise! Happy birthday!” They all yell in unison.

You startle and let out a small squeak. There are balloons and streamers hung from the ceiling. Everybody has glasses of champagne in their hands. Rossi brings a glass over to you. You have to fight to keep tears from rolling down your face. Nobody ever celebrates your birthday. You’re typically at home, alone, with a bottle of wine. 

“Congratulations on finally being 25. May your car insurance get cheaper and your rental cars be luxurious,” Garcia says, walking over to give you a hug. You all exchange pleasantries in the foyer before Rossi escorts you to the dining room. You feel like Reid’s hug lingers a little longer than normal, but you try not to overthink it.

Rossi serves a delicious pasta dinner with some wine to wash it down. You don’t drink too much, not wanting to let anything slip if you get drunk. 

As soon as you all finish eating, Rossi brings out a cake with 25 candles on top. You manage to blow them all in one go. The entire team cheers for you.

“Damn, girl, I feel like you’re holding out on us. Nobody has that kind of lung capacity. How’d you get that?” Morgan jokes. You raise your eyebrows and give him an innocent look.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Well, what did you wish for?” Reid chimes in before Morgan can push the joke even further. 

“If I tell you, then it won’t come true.” You lean over to bump shoulders with him.

Truthfully, you wish for everything to stay how it is. You finally have a great group of people who care about you. You would give anything to live in this moment forever.

Cutting into the cake, you can see that it’s your favorite flavor.

“Okay, how do you guys know everything about me? I’ve never once mentioned what kind of cake I like.”

“The FBI knows all,” Garcia says in a spooky voice from her end of the table. You all laugh before digging into the cake. 

The rest of the evening is spent laughing and telling stories to one another. It never fails to amaze you how all of these people from wildly different backgrounds ended up in the same place. 

Somehow, you end up on the topic of your college days. 

“Yes, I admit, I was absolutely a party girl. I was the go-to shot girl for all of the frat parties,” You confess, a blush forming on your cheeks.

“There’s no way. You’re way too smart to have been a party girl,” JJ argues.

“You can absolutely be smart and still party,” Reid says.

“How would you know?” You question, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Well, there’s only one way to have her prove it,” Emily says, looking you dead in the eyes. 

“No. Absolutely not. First of all, I’m not going to get all of you drunk while I’m still sober, and I don’t get drunk in public. Secondly, I don’t think any of you want me invading your personal space like that,” You protest, knowing that you don’t have a chance when Emily gets her mind set on something. She disappears to the kitchen with Rossi, coming back with a handful of shot glasses and a bottle of scotch. 

“Well it’s a good thing you’re not in public. You’re safe and comfy in Rossi’s house. Now drink, and show us how it’s done,” Emily says as she hands you a shot. You take it quickly, shaking your head and wincing at the burn as it goes down.

“Damn, that’s strong. Okay, I’ll start with the girls. You guys are closer to my height, so it’s easier. I need to adjust my technique for you boys, so you’ll have to wait.”

You line up the shot glasses on the edge of the table, one for each person. You look towards Rossi and Hotch, who are both leaving the room with their glasses of wine.

“What, you two don’t want to be part of the fun?” Emily jests as they exit.

“We’re too old for this. Have fun, kids,” Rossi calls from the other room. 

“Okay then, who’s first?” You ask, pouring the first shot. 

Emily comes to stand squarely in front of you, knowing that you’ll be the most comfortable with her. She gives you a wink as you prepare yourself. Morgan is heckling you from the other side of the table. You flip him off as you tilt your head back to put the shot glass in your mouth. You make sure you have a good seal, silently thanking the gods that you decided on a lipstick that doesn’t smudge. Placing your hands on either side of Emily’s face, you stand on your tip-toes to pour the shot into her mouth. She crouches down ever so slightly, making it a little easier on you. You tilt your head back again, using your tongue against the seal to pop the glass out of your mouth and catch it mid-air. You don’t spill a drop. Cheers erupt from around the table. 

“Okay then, you’ve proven me wrong. Now it’s my turn to enjoy it. Get your ass over here,” JJ cat calls you from the end of the table. You grab a shot and make sure to put a little extra sway in your hips as you strut over to her. You repeat the same process, laughing as she, too, winces at the burn. 

“Garcia, you want any?” You ask, returning to your shot-pouring station. She shakes her head and lifts her glass of wine.

“No thanks. I’m just enjoying watching this train wreck.”

You slam another shot. The burning isn’t quite as bad this time, but you are definitely feeling a little tipsy. You turn to face the boys. 

“Okay, you ready for this, Morgan? Because, quite frankly, I’m not sure you can handle it,” You tease, grabbing another shot off of the table and walking around to him. “You’re too tall for me to do this standing up, so stay in your chair and I’ll do all the work.”

“It’s been a hot second since I’ve had a girl boss me around like that,” Morgan laughs, poking fun at your accidental innuendo. You feel your face flush, but you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or the alcohol. 

You move to stand in front of Derek. You position yourself standing over him, straddling his left leg. He places one of his hands on your lower back to stabilize you when you tip your head back. It’s a little lower than you’d like, but you don’t stop to say anything. You place your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to appear less intimate while you tip the shot into his mouth. He knows exactly how to tilt his head to make it work. His other hand finds its way up to your rib cage, brushing his thumb gently along the side of your breast. You try to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as you step back, removing the glass from your mouth and peeling your body out of his hands. 

Everyone erupts in cheers again. As you make your way around the table, you notice that Reid shoots Morgan a look before he joins in, clapping but not cheering. You start to screw the lid back on the bottle when you’re startled out of your trance.

“Hey, don’t I get to try?” Reid asks. Your eyes go wide as you start to take the cap back off of the bottle.

“Yeah, of course! Sorry, I just thought that you don’t drink.” 

You desperately try to keep your hands from shaking as you pour the final shot. You debate on taking another one yourself, but you know it’ll push you over the edge if you do. 

You walk back around the table to Reid, shot in hand.

“Remember, you’re too tall for me. Stay still and let me do the work,” You say before you position yourself in the same way you did for Morgan. You try and tune out the hoots and hollers coming from your other team members. 

You place your hand where his shoulder and neck meet, knowing that you’ll probably need to guide him a little bit. Using your other hand, you position the glass in your mouth. You take a deep breath through your nose before bringing the glass down to Reid mouth, tipping it back towards him. One of his hands finds the back of your thigh, gripping tight enough to startle you. He spreads his other hand flat across your back, pulling you slightly towards him. As soon as you are finished, you remove the glass from your mouth and slam it on the table. You pull back hard so that Reid never has a chance to try and keep his grip on you.

“What the hell, you two? I’m not some fucking piece of meat for you to take a bite of whenever you want. I was trying to be fun and impress you all, not get groped by my coworkers,” You raise your voice as you back away from the table. Morgan just raises his eyebrows, but Reid looks genuinely upset.

You shake your head at the both of them, turning to storm off through the nearest doorway, the tears already pouring down your face. You don’t hear anybody come after you as you follow the winding hallways and run up a couple flights of stairs. You have no idea where you’re going or how you’re going to get back, but at this point you really don’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious that I have very little experience with drinking alcohol? Because I had to look up what kinds of alcohol you can do shots with...


	9. Where it Come Crashing In

After several minutes walking up and down endless hallways, you come across an open door. It appears to be a guest bedroom, devoid of any guests, so you enter and shut the door behind you. Rossi was smart and installed locks on all of the doors. You flip the lock and take a seat on the bed, debating about where to go from here.

You’re glad nobody followed you. Even if it was just Emily, you’re not sure you can talk to anybody reasonably right now. You work to control your breathing, de-escalating your anger and anxiety using the techniques you were taught in training. You don’t even know what time it is anymore, your phone abandoned on the dining room table. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been alone when you hear a gentle knock on the door.

“Are you okay in there? You can camp out as long as you want. I’ll bring you the last bottle of champagne, so you can at least enjoy yourself,” Rossi says from the other side. You chuckle at his jokes, appreciating his offer. 

“I’m okay. I just needed to be alone. I won’t fight you on the extra alcohol, though.”

“Fair warning, I don’t think you’ll be alone for long. I won’t give away your hiding spot, but there’s a manhunt downstairs right now. I’ll sneak back with the champagne if I can.”

You hear his footsteps fade in the distance. The way he’s handling everything makes you wonder if something like this has happened before. He does have several ex-wives, so it’s a possibility. 

You sit alone for a while longer before you hear another knock. It’s sharp and a little louder than you’d like.

“Rossi sent me back with contraband. Are you sure you’re okay?” Hotch questions you from the other side of the door. You walk over to it, placing your hand on the knob.

“Is anyone out there with you?”

“No, it’s just me. Everyone else is still searching the first floor.”

You click open the lock, opening the door just far enough to stick your arm through. You make grabbing motions with your hand, and you feel the smooth neck of a bottle meet your grip. You pull the bottle back through before closing the door again. This isn’t how you would normally behave around your boss, but it’s been a weird night and you’re under the influence of alcohol. Nothing about this is normal.

“I promise, I’m okay. I’m just a little shaken up and needed room to breathe.”

“If you need me to talk to anybody, I will. I don’t want anything affecting this team’s functionality, so I’ll keep them in check.”

Hotch is the only person on the team that knows your entire history and everything you’ve been through. He knows the things that you wish you could forget.

“Honestly, Hotch, I can handle myself. It might just take me drinking this whole bottle to face that.”

You hear him laugh quietly from the other side.

“If you need me, I’ll be downstairs. I’m not leaving until you do.”

“You may be here awhile then. Thank you.”

You hear the heels of his fancy dress shoes click against the hardwood floors as he walks away, leaving you alone again. You finally turn your attention to the bottle of champagne that Rossi smuggled up to you. He even had the sense to pull the cork out, because of course he would. You bring the bottle to your lips as you assess the absurdity of the entire situation. 

Before you can get too lost in your thoughts, you hear the doorknob rattle. You locked it again after Hotch left, so whoever is on the other side is kept out.

“I’m sorry. I know that won’t make it any better, but I’m really really sorry.”

You hear a gentle thud against the door as Reid whispers his apology from the other side. 

“What the hell was that, Reid? On our first day working together, you asked before you touched me. When we went out dancing, I basically had to force myself on you. What happened? That wasn’t like you.” 

You move to sit with your back against the door. You hear something slide down the door on the other side, so you assume Reid is matching your posture. You keep sipping from the bottle as he begins to speak. 

“To be honest, I didn’t know what a shot-girl was until you demonstrated with Emily. It didn’t surprise me that you were willing to do that with the girls. It just caught me off guard when you were so forward with Morgan. He always has girls draping themselves over him, so I should have known better. When I saw how he was holding you, I couldn’t let that be how it ended.”

You have to close your eyes and take a deep breath to keep yourself from tearing into him.

“It wasn’t a competition, Reid. It was supposed to be some slightly-less-than-innocent fun. To be honest, I really don’t like how he touched me either. He didn’t ask, he just did it. But that’s Morgan for you. I didn’t want to cause a scene, so I didn’t say anything. When you did it too, it surprised me. I thought you respected me, so it stung a little when you followed his lead.”

Reid goes silent on the other side. The only reason you know he’s still there is because you can faintly hear his breathing through the door.

“I do respect you. After you and I danced together, and when I saw that you didn’t react to Morgan touching you, I thought I had a little wiggle room. I know that’s just an excuse, and it doesn’t make it right, but that’s just where my brain was at. Will you please let me in?”

You let your head fall back and hit the door. You don’t want to let him in. You shouldn’t let him in. But your body betrays you, getting your feet beneath you and opening the door for him. He enters the room, avoiding looking at you. You shut and lock the door. You’re not sure why. He can leave if he really wants to, but it makes you feel better. 

“I know exactly why you did what you did. I just don’t understand it. You’re smarter than that. I know that you know that I couldn’t care less about Morgan. You’ve seen how my body reacts to being touched, with the flinching and the panic attacks. I’ve had men come and go in my life, taking what they wanted from me without any regard for my feelings. I’ve been left traumatized, mentally and physically, by men who think they have something to prove. It breaks my heart a little bit to think that you might be one of them.” 

You turn away from him. He still hasn’t looked at you, but you don’t think you’ll be able to handle it when he does. You place the bottle down on top of the dresser, knowing that you’ve had too much but really not caring. You rest your crossed arms on the hard surface, putting your forehead down on them. It reminds you of when you used to play ‘Heads up, Seven up’ in elementary school. If only things were so simple now. 

“I don’t think I even understand why I would do that to you. I’d like to say it’s some archaic part of my brain, fighting with the other alpha male for dominance. But that would mean that I’m not taking the blame for my actions. If it takes a year before you’ll let me hug you again, then so be it. I just want you to be comfortable around me. I want you to feel safe with me. If I have to stay away from you for that to happen, then I will. My only request is that you give me a second chance. Let me prove that it was a mistake. I won’t let it happen again.”

Tears start streaming down your face again. It feels like you cry every time you’re alone with Reid.

“You’re right Reid. It won’t happen again. Because, if it does, I will break your fingers so fast you won’t even know what hit you.” You finally turn to face him. You know you look like a disaster, tilted slightly sideways because of how tipsy you are and makeup smudged all over your face. He meets your eyes for the first time. He is wearing his pain so clearly on his face. Your logical brain begins to shut down again, allowing the alcohol to take over. “Emily told me, you know.”

Reid looks startled by such a simple statement.

“What exactly did she tell you?” He asks. His voice is so steady that he doesn’t give anything away. He has a lot more interrogation training than you, and it shows. 

“She told me that you like me. And that you stare at me when I’m not looking. And that you think I look cute in red.” You lean back against the dresser, puffing your chest out a little. You want to make him suffer at least a little bit. He shifts uncomfortably on the bed, looking away from you again. 

“Emily’s not wrong. I do like you. You’re brilliant. You stand up for yourself and others. You give and give, without ever expecting anything in return. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And you do look good in red.” He looks back towards you. You hold eye contact with him, hoping to make him a little uncomfortable.

“Is that why you couldn’t help yourself?”

“What?” He asks, seemingly genuinely confused.

“Is that why you groped me? Because I’m beautiful and smart? Because you admire me? It sure doesn’t feel that way,” You finish, filling your voice with just enough venom to make it sting.

“No. I already told you. When Morgan touched you, I thought I could've killed him. I had to make a point to him that he can’t just take whatever he wants.”

“Well next time you want to make a point, leave me out of it.”

You turn and unlock the door, exiting and slamming it behind you before he has a chance to say anything. You can sort of understand his reasoning, but it doesn't make it right.

It takes you a little while to find your way back to the main living area. Emily is sitting on the couch with Hotch. Morgan is standing with Garcia, quietly chatting about something. Everyone looks over as you enter. You march over to Morgan with more confidence than you think you’ve ever shown in your life.

“If you ever so much as think about touching me without my permission again, I will quite literally break your arm.”

You turn to walk towards the front of the house. Emily jumps off the couch to follow you. You can see a smirk appear on Hotch’s face as you pass. 

You can absolutely defend yourself when needed. You just hate that you ever need to.


	10. When it Settles

As you wake up back in your bed, you don’t have much recollection of how you got there. You remember bits and pieces of what happened at Rossi’s house, but not very many specifics. You roll over to check the time, but your hand slams down on an empty nightstand.

You forgot your phone on the dining room table at Rossi’s.

Beyond being mildly irritated about your missing phone, your weekend continues uneventfully. You receive a panicked email from JJ checking in on you after your phone went to voicemail more than twice. You sent out a mass email to the team, letting them all know that you’re okay, but they won’t be able to contact you until Monday.

You spend the rest of the weekend moping around your apartment, trying to remember the details of Friday evening then blocking them all back out.

\---

When you arrive back at the office on Monday, your phone is waiting for you on your desk, alongside a note and an iced coffee.

‘I hope this makes your day better. Your birthday should be a time to celebrate, not to be mad. Enjoy. - R’

As you sip on your coffee, you notice it’s made exactly how you like it. You spend your morning drinking your coffee and finishing the report for last week’s case. You took advice from the team and spent your weekend relaxing instead of working. Also, it’ll give you something to do until JJ’s phone rings again. 

The peace and quiet is short lived. 

Just before lunch, JJ completes her power-walk through the office, file folders in hand.

“Alrighty folks, we’ve got another one. Let’s get moving.”

In unison, all of you rise from your desks and head for the conference room. 

“Seattle, Washington. Several wealthy couples have been found murdered in their homes over the past two months,” JJ begins.

“Exactly how many is several?” Rossi interrupts.  
“Please hold your questions until the end of the presentation,” JJ jokes, looking pointedly at Rossi. “Four couples have been found dead over the past seven weeks. All were found in their homes on a Sunday morning, the women having been stabbed several times while their husbands have been shot.”

Looking through the case photos, you immediately notice something peculiar.

“They’re all dressed in black-tie outfits. The men have suit jackets on and everything. Has there been any investigation into that already?” You ask.

“Yes, each couple had attended some sort of gala or event the Saturday night before they were found dead.”

“That leaves a huge pool of suspects. We have to account for the other attendees as well as any staff members at these events,” Reid chimes in, not lifting his gaze from the file.

“Either way, there’s a huge charity gala this upcoming weekend, and Seattle PD needs our help to find this guy before another couple turns up dead.” JJ looks at Hotch.

“Understood. Wheels up in thirty.”

You match pace with Rossi as you all head to get your go bags.

“Hey, thanks for leaving my phone for me. And the coffee, too. It was just how I like it.”

Rossi looks over at you with pity evident on his face.

“Sorry, but I didn’t get you that coffee. We both know who did, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Of course it wasn’t him.

\---

On the flight to Seattle, the team works through the victimology and profile as usual. 

Each victim was no older than thirty, though they all had high paying jobs or significant wealth coming from another source. None of the couples had any children. All of them attended a gala or similar event the night before they were found murdered, and each had made a significant donation to various causes. As far as you can tell, there is no link between any of the donation recipients. 

The team leans towards a staff member as the unsub. A discrepancy in socioeconomic class along with the ability to be in attendance at all of the events makes it pretty clear cut. Even with all of the great information the team has, you are still stuck as to why the unsub chose these couples.

When you land in Seattle, Hotch sends Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss to the most recent crime scene while the rest of you head to the local field office to begin setting up the profile. JJ has her work cut out for her, keeping the press under control when some of the city’s most wealthy citizens are being brutally murdered for no reason. You receive a phone call from Morgan about an hour into setting up the conference room.

“As usual, this weird situation just got weirder,” Morgan starts.

“Are you going to tell me what it is, or am I supposed to guess?” You quip. You’re still mad at him for what happened on Friday, but you need to be able to do your job.

“The crime scene unit found a used condom in the bedroom.”

“There weren’t any signs of sexual abuse to the bodies found on autopsy though.” You flip open the file, reading through the notes again.

“I would put money on the fact that this guy is forcing the victims to have sex before killing them.”

“But they’re all found wearing their nice clothes. Why force them to have sex that way? Where’s the gratification? He’s not really exposing them. Why even make them wear a condom if they’re already married?” You rattle off your questions aloud. The find isn’t surprising, but it also doesn’t make much sense.

“This is an intense display of power if I’ve ever seen one. This unsub is trying to prove that it doesn’t matter how much wealth or status you have, you’re just as easy to corner and control.”

You sigh deeply, not liking where any of this is going.

“This is just weird. Something still doesn’t feel right about it. Thanks for the update,” You finish before ending the call. You fill in Hotch and Reid with the new information, but neither of them have any suggestions either. 

“The planning that had to go into these murders screams that it’s an organized unsub, but the mess left behind at the scenes is just so chaotic. This guy’s all over the place.” Reid throws his hands in the air before turning away from the whiteboard. 

“Why is it such a big deal to this guy that these people are donating a lot of money to great causes? There’s not even a link between the charities. I just don’t get it.” You lay your head down on the table, your brain already hurting less than a day into the investigation. The boys both shrug, neither of them having any good answers.

\---

The investigation continues throughout the week with no significant progress. Sometimes it feels like there isn’t enough pressure for the local law enforcement, knowing that nothing is likely to happen before the weekend. 

You spend the week interviewing various attendees and hosts of the recent events throughout the city. You also have a meeting with the organization putting on the gala this upcoming weekend, telling them to keep a detailed list of everybody that enters and exits the event, along with times and notes about anybody that looks suspicious. You feel bad that you can’t even give any sort of physical indicators since the team is at a dead end. 

Garcia sends you detailed lists of all vendors and staff members from each event. Many of them used the same companies for catering and event staff, which is exactly what you expected. 

On Friday, Hotch comes into the conference room to find you laying on the floor staring at the ceiling.

“Are you okay?” He asks before stepping over you to look at the board again.

“I’ve never felt more useless in my life,” You say simply.

“Well, that’s going to change in about 24 hours.”

You shoot up from the floor, knowing exactly what he is getting at.

“You’re sending me out as bait again, aren’t you?”

“Only if you feel ready. I don’t want to send you into a situation if you feel underprepared.”

“I’m absolutely ready, Sir. I just have a few questions. Firstly, I assume you’re not sending me out alone. Also, I don’t have a high profile job in the area. How are we going to convince people that I’m important?”

“You’ll be going with Reid. He’ll be posing as a doctor, obviously. We’ve informed the organization running the event that you two will be attending. They’re going to talk to a few groups of guests that will be in attendance to give them information. They’ll play it up, acting like you guys are an important couple that recently moved to the area. How do you feel about being a lawyer?”

You move yourself from the floor to a chair, leaning your arms on the table. Last time you put yourself on the line, you were on your own. You weren’t responsible for anyone else, and they weren’t responsible for you. You’re not sure how well it’s going to go if you have to act with another person. 

“Don’t I look a little young to be a lawyer?”

“We’ve already got teams lined up to make you two look the part. Reid is in if you are.”

“Like I said, Hotch, I’m ready for anything. Just tell me where I need to be, and when.”

“We’ll meet in your hotel room tomorrow afternoon. After you’re done getting ready, the team will prep you on our end. You’ll be safe the entire time.”

You take a deep breath before laying your head down on the table. You know you’ll be safe from the unsub. You’re just not sure how you’ll get through an entire night of pretending being married to Reid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have written up to chapter 16 already. Perhaps I may post twice today....


	11. What He Feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is your daily reminder that I am aware of the plot-holes for all of the cases. Sometimes suspension of disbelief can set up some pretty fun situations.

Your styling team arrives at your hotel room around two in the afternoon. Emily and JJ quickly invite themselves over to be part of the process.

“How is any of this in the budget?” You ask as you’re sat down to have your makeup done.

“Garcia worked her magic. Don’t question her,” Emily replies while looking through the dress options that are brought into your room.

You settle in and allow yourself to be pampered, pushing down the thoughts about how tonight might go. Hotch briefed you and Reid last night, making sure everyone is on the same page. Both of you will be using your real names so you don’t have to remember any more lies than necessary. A few of the guests know who you really are, but it’s up to you to convince the rest. Part of the auction will be rigged for Reid and yourself to make the highest bid of the evening, hopefully catching the unsub’s attention. 

JJ takes it upon herself to manicure your nails while you get your hair done. She chooses a very dark metallic grey. You have a feeling she doesn’t get to be as girly as she wants to be very often. 

Several hours later, you’re finally able to see yourself in the mirror. Your hair is done in large curls, giving a very vintage hollywood vibe. Your makeup is simple but absolutely stunning. Some smoked-out eyeliner accentuates your eyes. The team decides on a neutral lip color since you haven’t picked your dress yet. 

The hired styling team takes some time to look through the dress options, stopping to look you over before going back to their work. 

“I have a request, if you don’t mind? Do you have anything in red?” You ask quietly. JJ hums in agreement, while Emily chokes on her drink in the corner. You shoot her a look, but she’s too busy trying to stop herself from laughing to notice. 

It takes three people to secure you in your dress. They decide on a deep wine colored dress. It’s a little lower-cut than what you would pick for yourself, the v-shaped neckline hitting quite low on your sternum. The back is even more revealing than the neckline, scooping low enough to show off most of your back. The bodice is made of a snug gathered mesh material. The dress drapes out at your waist, with a delicate layered chiffon skirt that pools at the floor. There is a slit on the right side that is cut high enough for you to show off most of your leg. They put you in a pair of black heels that make your legs look a mile long. The stylists use a hefty amount of fabric tape and several dozen safety pins to make the dress fit perfectly. There’s no extra space for you to wear your gun without it being obvious, but you don’t care much. You look incredible. 

“Here, you need this to finish it off,” JJ calls as she tosses you a small velvet box. When you open it to inspect the contents, you find two rings. One of them is a simple white gold band, the other is a breathtaking engagement ring with a large, solitaire-set black garnet. 

“Reid told us about the tyraid you went on about blood diamonds. He knew you wouldn’t want to wear one, so we grabbed this instead,” Emily explains, walking over to inspect you closer. You slide the rings onto your finger, a perfect fit. You love it.

As you finish pulling yourself together, Hotch and Morgan enter your room.

“Damn, girl, you don’t look half bad,” Morgan comments, looking you up and down.

“Morgan, keep it to yourself. I’d punch you to make my point, but I don’t want to break this ring,” You say, still admiring your new jewelry.

“Yeah, we have to return that once we’re done. It’s definitely not in the budget,” Emily chimes in while she packs up her things. 

“Enough jokes people, it’s almost time to go. [Y/n], obviously there’s nowhere to place a wire on you while you’re in that dress, but Reid is wired up. We’ll drop the two of you off in about an hour. You’ll be in there alone, since the unsub doesn’t strike until the victims leave the party. We’ve got a safehouse set up in an affluent neighborhood not too far away. It’s about a 30 minute drive between the venue and the house. Are you sure you’re comfortable with this?” Hotch questions you.

“I told you, I am more than ready. I get to drink a little champagne and pretend to be rich for the night. How bad could it be?”

“Remember, only one glass of champagne. And that’s only because I’m being nice after last time,” Hotch replies dryly. You chuckle at his comment but nod in understanding anyways. 

“What if we don’t get this guy? What if we are about to go through all of this effort for another couple to end up dead tomorrow morning?”

“We’ll get him. Don’t worry about it.”

You all head down to the hotel lobby, meeting up with Reid and Rossi. You think you see Reid do a double take when he notices you, but you don’t say anything. Tonight is probably going to be awkward enough, you don’t need to add to it.

\---

The ride to the venue takes less than 20 minutes. Yourself and Reid ride in the back seat of Hotch’s SUV, not wanting to attract any attention with additional bodies in the car. The two of you exit the vehicle, and you quickly link arms with Reid. Walking into the ballroom, you are escorted to a large table. There are already several couples seated, so the two of you try to make small talk as best you can. 

For a short while, you decide to walk around and look at the silent auction items. Many of them already have bids of over $10,000. It takes your breath away when you think about how much money some people have. As you admire some of the beautiful pieces of art, a hand brushes your lower back and you jump. 

“Hey, they just brought champagne by, and I didn’t think you’d want to miss out,” Reid says, handing you a glass. You clink it against the glass in his hand and take a sip. It’s some of the smoothest bubbly you’ve ever had. You make a surprised face when Reid takes a sip of his own. 

“What, can’t I enjoy myself too?”

“God, we already sound like an old married couple. I guess it makes sense why they’d send the two of us in together,” You comment as you continue browsing, glancing around to make sure that there are no staff members standing nearby.

“That, and I think it would look awkward if I were here with Emily or JJ.”

“I think you and JJ would look nice together. Emily’s too intense for you, though.”

“I think JJ’s a little too old,” Reid replies. You whip your head around to look at him, eyes wide. “No, not like that. She’s just far too sophisticated for me. She’s too put together. It would look strange.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. It’s unclear if that was a compliment towards her or an insult towards you. 

You continue to eyeball the silent auction items until they call everyone for dinner. You make small talk with the other guests at your table, trying to fit in and seem natural. They all seem to take a liking to the two of you, so it appears to be working. 

When the time for the auction comes, the plan goes off without a hitch. You guys place the highest bid of the entire night, earning a deafening round of applause from the other guests. You enjoy dessert together afterwards, breathing a sigh of relief that the set-up worked.

It’s not long before you feel Reid elbow you in the side. When you look at him, he looks flushed and generally unwell.

“Hey, are you okay? There wasn’t anything you’re allergic to in the food, right?” You place your hand on the side of his face, feeling how warm he is.

“No, it’s not an allergic reaction. But I do think it’s time to get out of here.” 

You nod before rising from the table, offering him your hand. He takes it and follows your lead. You thank the others at the table for the wonderful night and take your leave. There’s a car waiting outside to take you to the safehouse. Reid is silent the entire ride, but you can hear him trying to keep his breathing steady.

You note all of the unmarked black cars throughout the neighborhood as you approach the house. 

Hotch made an understatement when he called it a house. It’s a mansion. It has three stories, and you’re sure there is a large infinity pool out back. You don’t take the time to check, though, because Reid looks like he has one foot in the grave.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do we need to get you medical attention?” You question him as you help him sit on the couch.

“No, I’ll be fine. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but I think I have a pretty good idea now,” Reid groans as he shifts on the couch.

“Well, do you care to share with the group, or am I supposed to start guessing again?” You try to make a joke, only getting a little huff from him. 

“Obviously I was drugged, somehow. I’m not sure if it was the champagne or the food. Either way, it’s some sort of vasodilator or aphrodisiac,” He says, almost clinically. He’s very obviously avoiding making eye contact with you.

“Oh. Oh! Oh no. Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?” You take a seat next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He flinches at your touch. 

“Please take a moment to think about the question you just asked, and then get back to me.”

You smack him in the arm. He knows you don’t mean it like that. He laughs as he finally looks over at you. He looks almost like he’s in pain, his face screws up tight every time he moves. He’s flushed, and his pupils are blown out. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he has the flu or something. 

“I’m just going to run to the bathroom, okay?”

You nod and help him up from the couch. His skin is hot to the touch. 

Reid leaves you alone in the sitting room. You don’t have your phone on you, since you didn’t want to carry a bag around with you all night. You lean over momentarily, rubbing your face with your hands.

As you lean back, you feel cold metal hit the center of your back.

“Get up,” A deep voice commands from behind you. “Don’t turn around. Go to the bedroom. Get your husband in there too.”

He was already in the house. None of the doors or windows opened or closed after you got here. He knew where you were going. 

You walk further into the house, keeping your breathing as controlled as possible. The unsub keeps the gun pressed to the middle of your back just hard enough to be uncomfortable.

“Hey, can you come to the bedroom for a minute?” You call, hoping Reid will pick up on the change in your tone. There’s no response. You reach the bedroom, and you can hear the water running from the ensuite bathroom. 

“Go. Get. Him.” The unsub punctuates his words by pushing the gun further into your spine. You walk to the bathroom door and knock gently.

“Babe, can you come out here for a minute? I need your help with something.” You pray that the pet-name tips him off. You hear the water turn off, and Reid opens the door. Instead of looking at you, he looks over your shoulder, straight at the unsub.

“Both of you, on the bed. Now.” The man commands. Reid grabs your arm and pulls you to the bed. “You, get on top of him.”

Reid takes a seat on the bed with his back against the headboard. He nods at you, but he still looks awful. You hesitate.

“I said get on top of him! Don’t forget, I’m the one in charge here!” The unsub raises his voice as he brings the butt of the pistol down on the muscle between your neck and shoulder. You cry out in pain and brace yourself on the bed. Reid holds his hand out for you.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay,” He says as he pulls you towards him. You can’t tell if he’s acting or actually trying to comfort you.

The team can’t be far behind. They have to be hearing this. 

You climb onto Reid’s lap, straddling him. You try to sit far back on his thighs to not make him uncomfortable, but still close enough to look natural. You have to adjust your dress a little so you’re not caught so tightly in it. He winces as you move against him. 

“Stay right there,” The unsub says before turning to the dresser and pulling a few things out of his bag. It looks like he’s setting up a bluetooth speaker. 

While he’s distracted, you lay your head on Reid’s shoulder, trying to be discreet.

“Do what you need to do to keep us safe. I’ll be okay, I promise,” You try to assure him. You’re pretty sure you’ve traumatized him every time he’s touched you in the past. He gives you a sad look and shakes his head a little. “Seriously, I’ll be okay. Don’t let yourself get hurt because of me.”

Reid slowly runs his hands up your legs and rests them on your hips, trying to look natural. You give him a little nod before closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. Music starts playing through the speaker.

“Now, you two are going to do everything I say. You, mop-hair, show her you’re in charge. Don’t make me show you how it’s done.” The unsub turns back to the two of you, clearly taunting Reid. You feel him tense underneath you. 

Suddenly, Reid wraps one of his arms around your waist, his other finding its way into your hair. He pulls you completely flush with him, and you try desperately to ignore the feeling of his body against yours. He pulls you so that your forehead is touching his. You tangle your fingers in his hair near the base of his neck. Both of you are breathing heavily, not sure where to go next.

When you finally make eye contact, Reid gives you a look that’s so intense you’re not sure he’s acting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain tells me that he looks like season 7 Reid due to the team lineup, but my heart tells me season 12 Reid because why not?


	12. What She Says

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo just a fair trigger warning for talks about sexual assault/past abusive relationships. It's not really detailed, but I wanted to put a warning to be safe!

Before you have a chance to get stuck in your own head, Reid begins to mark your neck with his mouth. It takes all of your strength not to gasp at the feeling of his teeth nipping at your neck. Even if he is your coworker and there’s a man pointing a gun at you to make him do it, it’s hard not to give in to his advances. He’s still got a bruising grip on your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. 

As quickly as he made his first move, Reid flips the two of you over. He covers your body with his own, blocking you from the view of the unsub. He drops his head back down to your neck, and you feel his breath against your chest as he starts talking to you.

“Get my gun,” He breathes, his voice not even as loud as a whisper.

You let your hands roam over his body, trying to make it look like you’re enjoying it. You can feel Reid’s muscles tense as your hands brush up and down his sides. You don’t know where he has his gun holstered in this particular suit, so it takes a few moments of searching to find it. 

Reid begins to move down your body, leaving gentle kisses on your collar bone and chest. He leaves almost no space between your bodies to try and obscure what you’re doing. You take a deep breath before clicking the safety off, praying the unsub doesn’t hear it. You arch your back off the bed a little bit, playing up your arousal. You have to buy yourself time and collect yourself before making a move. It’s incredibly hard to focus while Reid is doing what he is doing to you. 

Once Reid is far enough down your body that you won’t catch on his clothing, you pull the gun out. Without thinking, you pull the trigger, hitting the unsub in the right shoulder. He drops to the ground screaming, and his gun clatters across the floor.

A split-second passes before the bedroom door crashes open, and Hotch and Morgan enter the room with their guns drawn. Reid sits up just in time, putting the two of you in a less compromising position. 

“It’s clear, you guys. It was only one person. [Y/n] got him. It’s all good,” Reid says, running his hand through his hair and slowing his breathing. 

Medics begin rushing into the room, pulling Reid off of you and getting you out of the bed. You have to bite back a whine at the loss of contact. They usher Reid outside before you get a chance to say anything. You meet JJ’s eyes across the room, and she comes over to be with you. The team escorts you out to an ambulance to be checked over. You look around to try and find Reid, but his ambulance is already gone.

“How much of that did you guys hear?” You ask JJ while a paramedic takes your vitals. 

“Not a ton. We knew there was an issue when Reid said he was drugged, but we figured the unsub was following behind you guys. We sat back and waited for someone to drive by after you. Nobody ever came. Hotch just about lost it when you called Spencer ‘babe’. Unless you two are hiding something, he knew there was something really wrong,” JJ explains. “I also heard him call me old.”

“Don’t worry, I was ready to kill him for you over that comment,” You laugh, flinching when the medics touch where you were hit with the unsub’s gun. 

“I figured. You keep him in check pretty well.”

You’re quickly released from the ambulance when they don’t find anything seriously wrong. JJ drags you into the car to drive back to the hotel, but you don’t want to leave without at least knowing where Reid is. You can’t find him, and you start to worry.

Back in your hotel room, JJ and Emily help to peel you out of your dress. You remove your rings, placing them back in their box. You decide to jump in the shower to wash off all of the makeup instead of trying to use makeup wipes. You tie your hair up in a bun since you don’t want to spend the time to wash it right now. When you get out, you put on your pajama shorts and sweatshirt. JJ and Emily are gone, but they left a chocolate bar and a bottle of water from the vending machine on your bed. 

For several hours, you flop around in your bed. You’re exhausted, but you can’t bring yourself to sleep while Reid is out there. You send him several texts, but he doesn’t reply. 

Around four in the morning, there’s a knock on your door. You answer it without any hesitation. 

“Can I come in?” Reid asks, also dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt. You step aside to let him in.

“Are you okay? They took you away so fast, I got worried,” You confess, sitting down at the end of your bed. You don’t bother turning any additional lights on, leaving the two of you hardly lit by the single lamp on the bedside table. 

“I’m fine. They didn’t know what I was drugged with, so they took me right to the hospital. They ran bloodwork and gave me some fluids, but everything came back normal. Whatever he used is out of my system now,” Reid explains as he comes to sit next to you on the bed. “The more important question is whether you’re okay?”

You shake your head at him.

“I’m not the one who was drugged. Of course I’m fine. I had to live through Emily and JJ seeing all of the hickeys you left on me, but other than that, I’m no worse for wear.” You pull down the neckline of your hoodie to show Reid the marks he left.

“Yeah, sorry about that. It was the first thing I could think to do. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and that was the best I could come up with.”

“I told you that you don’t need to worry about me. I’m not going to hold anything against you,” You say as you rest your head on his shoulder. The exhaustion is finally starting to hit you.

“I’m going to ask you a question, and I know you’re not going to like it. But, what happened to you?”

“I’m going to need you to be a little more specific,” You say, avoiding his question. “I have 25 years of life experiences that I could explain.”

“What happened to make you run away every time I touch you? I know I’m not the most appealing partner, but there’s something more going on with you. I can tell,” Reid says simply. You swallow hard. You always knew this would come up eventually, but you’ll never be fully ready to talk about it.

“Remember what I said last time I had a mental breakdown in a hotel room? No self-deprecation allowed,” You say quietly, looking up at him. He looks back at you with exhaustion and a little sadness in his eyes. 

“Please stop avoiding the question. I want to know so I never do anything to make you uncomfortable. I’ve done it by accident in the past, and I don’t ever want to do it again,” he pleads. You can’t say no when he gives you that look.

“I’ve only ever been in one relationship in my life,” You begin explaining. Reid shifts so he can face you. You can’t look him in the eye. “He was a pretty horrible person. We met in college, he was pre-med while I studied psychology. It started small, him putting me down because he studied hard sciences and my passion was ‘unproven BS’.” 

You sniffle, tears already starting to pool in your eyes. You’re never going to be strong enough to really talk about this.

“It was never enough to raise any red flags. I was young and naive. Every couple has things they fight about. Ours was just what we wanted to do with our lives. He always told me that I would never be able to become a doctor. Even if I did, my profession was worthless anyways. I put up with it because I loved him. He never laid a hand on me when he was angry, so I never saw it coming. He was the first person I ever had sex with. It all happened really fast for me. I’ve never been someone who relies on physical touch, so it was all really new. He never took my feelings into account, physical or emotional.”

Tears start to stream down your face. Reid looks like he wants to reach out and touch you, but he keeps his hands in his lap. You wish more than ever that he would just hold you. He stays silent as you continue explaining. 

“He, uh, was very much a dominant personality. I never got a choice in how things went. He would hold me down, put his hands on my throat, do whatever he could to control me. He used to walk up behind me, put his hand on my stomach, and pull me into him. No matter what I was doing in the apartment, that always meant that it was time to please him. I had to drop whatever I was doing to be a piece of meat for him. That’s why I-” You can’t continue, your breath catching in your throat. You wipe your tears away, knowing that you look like a mess. You finally look up to meet Reid’s eyes, and he has tears running down his cheeks as well.

“I am so sorry if anything I have done to you brought those feelings back,” He begins apologizing.

“Stop. You didn’t know. It’s just a weird trigger that I have, and there’s no way you could have ever known anything about it.”

You hug your knees to your chest. You keep hiccuping as you try to take a deep breath.

“Just because I didn’t know doesn’t make it less traumatic for you. How long were you two together?” Reid asks. He sounds like he’s fighting to keep his breathing steady as well.

“Six years. I met him right at the beginning of my freshman year in college. We broke up a couple months before I accepted my position on the team.”

You use the back of your hand to wipe the tears from your face again. Reid places his hand on your knee. You can feel him walking on eggshells around you.

“I don’t want you to treat me any differently because of what I told you. I’m still the same person.”

“How can I not treat you differently? Now I know that you’re in pain because of something some idiot did to you, and there’s nothing I can do about it-”

“Spencer.” You cut him off. He breaks out of whatever rant he was about to go on and looks you dead in the eye.

“You’ve never used my first name before.”

You choose to ignore his astonishment at what you just did. His name feels foreign coming from your mouth, but it’s something you could get used to.

“I am still the same person I was an hour ago, the same person as last night. Nothing’s changed.”

Reid simply nods at you, still stuck on you calling him by his first name. He’s clearly not going to let that go.

“Why don’t you ever use my first name?”

“Because it’s too personal. Too close. Typically when I let people, specifically men, into my life, it ends poorly for me. So I choose to keep them at a distance. You can’t hurt me if I won’t let you close enough.”

“Why now?”

“When you flipped us over in that bed earlier tonight, you put your body on mine, and you protected me. You literally risked your life for me. I’m starting to think that you’re not going to let me shut you out. Also, it feels a little weird to only call you by your last name when you did all of this,” You gesture vaguely at your neck and chest. He laughs a little at your explanation, but he still looks so sad.

“Yeah, sorry again about that. It couldn’t have felt good.”

Your mind instantly goes blank. No matter how you respond, it’s going to change something. He knew exactly what he was doing by making that statement. 

“Actually, it didn’t feel half bad,” You say sheepishly. You brush your fingertips over the marks he left. It actually felt really good, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Now it’s my turn to ask a question that you’re not going to like.”

“Okay, shoot,” Spencer says. You turn to face him, sitting cross legged on the end of the bed, dropping your hands into your lap.

“You weren’t acting earlier.”

“That’s not a question.”


	13. When He's Honest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this chapter being so short! The next chapter is a little longer, I promise!

“You weren’t acting earlier.”

“That’s not a question.”

You roll your eyes. Of course he’s going to decide to be insufferable.

“Well, if it was just all fun and games, I guess you won’t mind if I do this…” You trail off as you move to straddle his lap, much like you did in the bed earlier. He doesn’t move a muscle.

“We just got done talking about your trauma with men and sexuality. You’re really sending me some mixed signals here,” Reid sounds unimpressed as he looks up at you, continuing to lean back on his hands. He’s gripping the bed a little tighter than a normal person would.

“We talked about my trauma with men when they take what they want from me without asking. I’m making my own choices here. And besides, if you were just acting earlier, then there’s no reason to get worked up over this, right?” You cock your head to one side. You place one of your hands on his shoulder to keep yourself from falling backwards off of the end of the bed. You think about grinding your hips down against him, but that would be too mean. You’re not sure how far you’re willing to push this, and you don’t want to end up hurting him, emotionally or physically. 

Spencer stays completely still underneath you.

“You’re right, it wasn’t all an act. Some of it was me trying to keep you safe. Some of it was me being drugged and my body needing to do something before it exploded. But I won’t lie, a lot of it was me taking the opportunity to live out some of the things I never thought I’d get to do”

You turn your face away from him, trying and failing to hide your reddening face from him. He reaches up with one hand and grabs your jaw, making you face him so he can look in your eyes again.

“You knew I liked you. Emily told you. Why are you surprised by any of this?” Reid asks while he studies your face. 

“It’s not that I’m surprised. I mean, there’s a reason I chose to wear that dress. It’s just a little strange to know that you think about me when I’m not around.”

“Someday I’d like to tell you all of the things that have gone through my head,” Reid smirks as your face gets even redder. “Like how I felt when you were dancing on me in the club after that first week. And what I wanted to do to you when I saw you in that dress earlier tonight.”

Reid sits up straighter, shifting so most of your weight is in his lap rather than resting on your knees, bringing his hands up to rest lightly on your waist. He gives you the space to move away and say no. 

You stay. 

You close your eyes momentarily and take a deep breath to calm yourself. When you open them again, it feels like Reid is staring into your soul.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” You ask simply. 

“Because that’s not how I want our first kiss to be.”

You swallow hard at the implications of his statement. 

“So, you’ve thought about kissing me?”

“Clearly. I thought that was obvious.”

You give him a light smack upside his head as punishment for his sass. His hair is ruffled and he has that stupid smile on his face. 

Spencer Reid has always been attractive. There’s no arguing about that. But this is the first moment where he’s given you real butterflies just by looking at you. It’s terrifying, but you never want to move from where you’re sitting right now. Both of you are in sweatshirts and pajama pants with mussed up hair and eye bags so dark it looks like you’ve never slept. You feel like you could spend the rest of your life this way. 

“So, if not like that, then how?” Reid raises his eyebrows at your question. You elaborate. “Clearly you’ve planned our first kiss. How’s it going to happen?”

“If I told you then it would ruin the fun of it.”

Reid tightens his grip on your hips. You bite back a sigh at the increased friction between the two of you. You have no idea how he’s staying so calm. 

“Well that’s just rude,” You state before you cut yourself off by yawning. Reid quickly follows suit, removing one of his hands from your hip to cover his mouth. 

“It’s, like, five in the morning. We should probably get some sleep,” Reid says as he gently slides you off of his lap. You miss the heat of his body already.

This boy has done something to you.

Spencer places his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie as he stands up, looking down at you.

“Good night. I’m glad things went the way they did.” He gives you a sad smile before turning and heading towards the door. As soon as his hand hits the knob, you call after him.

“Wait. Can you stay, please? I don’t want to be alone.” You ask quietly, refusing to look him in the face. You keep your eyes on his hand that is still in the pocket of his sweatshirt. 

“I’ll stay for as long as you want me to,” He says as he walks back towards you. 

“I’m just afraid that I’m going to hear his voice as soon as I fall asleep. I’m still not good at letting things go. I don’t want to wake up alone.”

Reid nods at you before he starts pulling the blankets down on the bed. He makes a nest for the two of you towards the center. He gestures for you to climb in. You shimmy and make yourself comfortable. He turns off the light before climbing in after you. He shuffles up behind you, becoming the most respectful big-spoon ever. He places one hand on your hip.

“Is this okay?”

You hum a little bit, hoping that he understands that means yes. 

Both of you are silent for a while, the sound of each other’s breathing keeping you company. 

“When did you know?” You ask, breaking the silence. 

“Elaborate?” He confirms your suspicion that he’s still awake. He rubs his thumb gently over your hip on top of your sweatshirt, still not pushing any limits.

“When did you start liking me?”

“As soon as I met you,” He says softly, his hand coming to rest again. Your heart skips a beat at his statement. You don’t push for any further explanation, and he doesn’t offer one. 

Pretty soon, you’re able to fall asleep to the sound of his breathing. Your brain goes completely quiet for the first time in a long time.

\---

You’re woken abruptly, far earlier than you had hoped. Someone on the team is banging on your door, telling you to be downstairs in 20 minutes. Spencer jolts awake next to you, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. You wonder to yourself how his hair is always so perfectly messy, and if it’s possible for him to teach you how to do it.

Reid gives you a wordless wave good-bye before heading back to his room to pack. 

The room is too quiet without him there. You quickly change and throw all of your belongings in your bag before heading down to the lobby. 

The rest of the team is already waiting, most of them with coffee in-hand. The only person missing is Reid. He shows up only moments after you. The team piles into the SUVs before heading to the airport. The flight home is uneventful. You fall asleep for the majority of it, trying to catch up from last night. Nobody makes any mention of what happened. 

Hotch gives everyone Monday and Tuesday off to make up for the weekend spent working and flying home. You meander around your apartment, noticing how still everything is without someone there with you. You end up spending most of your time on the couch, mindlessly browsing through the internet on your phone. 

It hurts a little when you don’t hear anything from Reid.

When you return to the office on Wednesday, you all bury yourself in your reports. Everyone keeps mostly to themselves, only offering up details and additional information when asked. 

The rest of the week passes in a similar fashion. You start to regret being so open and honest with Reid if this is how he is going to treat you. 

You decide to stay late on Friday evening, continuing to consult on smaller cases so you don’t spend the night alone in your apartment. You get up to grab some coffee from the breakroom. When you return to your desk, there’s a note resting on your keyboard. As you look around, you notice the rest of the team has already left. At least all except for Hotch, who basically lives in his office. You carefully open the note.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 7. Wear something comfortable. -R”


	14. When it Sparks

Before you know it, it’s 4pm on Saturday, and you’re still panicking about what to wear. This feels like it’s becoming too common of an occurrence in your life lately. 

Reid told you to wear comfortable clothes. You hate clothing descriptions. Does comfortable mean leggings or jeans? Should you wear much makeup? What’s the difference between black-tie and formal? What even is business casual anyways?

You eventually decide on some jeans with a couple rips near the thighs and knees. You pick out a casual tank-top that has some pretty lace detailing on the hem. You have to sit on the floor and collect yourself when you realize you should probably wear pretty undergarments. You consider the fact that you’re overthinking the situation, but it’s better to be safe than sorry. You choose a lacy black bralette and matching panties. You don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard, but you’ll still look nice. After cuffing the ankles of your jeans, you throw on some plain black sneakers. 

It’s still pretty hot and humid outside, so you pull your hair back into two simple dutch braids. You put on some light makeup. There’s no point in a full face of makeup if you’re going to risk sweating at all. You’ve still got on the dark nailpolish that JJ applied last weekend, and you’ve managed to not chip it too badly. 

Spencer texts you promptly at seven to let you know that he’s arrived. As you exit your building, you see Reid parked out front, leaning against his car. Up until now, you never believed that he actually owned a car. 

“Do my eyes deceive me or are you actually wearing a pair of jeans?” Reid calls from the street. 

“Believe it or not, I can actually dress casually sometimes. It’s almost as unheard of as you driving a car,” You quip back as you approach him. He opens the passenger door, allowing you to drop down into the seat. He shuts the door behind you before doing a little half-jog back around to the driver’s side. 

“Where are we going?” You ask as he turns the car back on.

“It’s a surprise,” He says simply, pulling away from the curb and officially beginning whatever this is. 

The two of you ride in comfortable silence for a little while, listening to music on the radio. After about twenty minutes, you arrive at your destination. It appears to be a little hole-in-the-wall pizza shop. 

You order a single slice of pepperoni pizza, more as a formality rather than out of hunger. Your stomach is still twisted in knots over whatever is going on between the two of you. Reid orders the same, and you both sit at a booth together to enjoy your meal. You make small talk between bites, mainly talking about work. Soon enough, you’re both done eating.

Reid jumps out of the booth and extends his hand to you. Not one to question him, you take his hand and follow his lead. He guides you back to the car, opening the door for you again.

“Ah, so this is a multi-part surprise?” You ask when he joins you in the car again.

“Yes. That was only the beginning. Besides, it would be a pretty lame date if we just left it there,” He replies as he buckles his seatbelt and turns on the car. Your heart jumps a little when he calls it a date. You try not to let your anxiety show as he drives to the next location. 

The next section of the drive takes about forty minutes. It feels like you’re driving into the middle of nowhere, but you don’t ask any questions yet. The sun is starting to set, casting a golden-hour glow over the tops of the trees on the horizon. 

Suddenly, you can see small lights in the distance. It’s not long before Reid parks the car among dozens of others in a field. He gets out of the car, and you follow. He extends his hand to you again, and you take it. Your senses are assaulted by flashing lights and crowds of people.

Spencer brought you to the county fair.

You can hear kids screaming and music playing in the distance. You can smell all of the sugary fried food.

“You did not…” You trail off. Before he has a chance to respond, you tug on his hand and he follows you as you make your way towards the sound.

As you get closer to the entrance, you can really take in all of the sights. There’s a large ferris wheel covered in hundreds of lights. You can hear people shrieking from the other few carnival rides. There are booths set up with various games and prizes. You immediately spot the best part, the stand selling funnel cakes.

Reid pulls two tickets out of his pocket, handing them to the teenager at the booth. She stamps both of your hands before allowing you in. 

“I can’t believe this. How long have you had this planned? There’s no way you just thought of this after last weekend,” You say incredulously as you lead him farther into the chaos. 

“I’ve had it in the back of my mind for awhile. I was going to ask you anyways. You just made it really easy to bring it up, given last weekend’s events.”

You stand off to the side of the walkway, taking everything in. It’s a lot of stimulation, the sights and sounds of the fair mixed with the anxiety of being here with Reid. 

“Where do you want to start?” He asks, gesturing in front of him with his free hand.

The two of you spend the next hour or so bouncing from attraction to attraction. You’re shocked to learn that Reid has never experienced funnel cake, so you force him to share one with you. He wins you a stuffed bear plush, undoubtedly cheating the game somehow. Whether it’s because he grew up in Vegas or the fact that he’s a genius, that game didn’t stand a chance. While he’s busy focusing on another game, you sneak off to find more snacks. He hasn’t let you pay for anything thus far, and you feel bad. You find a stand selling blue raspberry cotton candy, your favorite flavor. You quickly pay for a bag and head to where you left Reid. You see him looking around anxiously as you make your way back.

“Hey, where’d you go? I got worried when I looked up and saw you were gone,” He says as he meets you on the side of the walkway. You pull the bag of cotton candy out to show him. “Do you have any idea how bad that is for you?”

“Do you have any idea how much I don’t care?” You respond as you shove another piece into your mouth. You offer the bag to him, and he pops a small piece in his mouth. You can’t quite tell if he likes it or not. 

Reid links his arm through yours, so you can continue to hold the bag and eat while you walk. He leads you over to the line for the ferris wheel. You look up as you get closer to the front of the line, and you feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Reid, I don’t know about this. I’m not really big on heights,” You say nervously. 

“It’s fine. Just think of it this way: you know how my brain works, so you know I’ve calculated every possible way that something like this could go wrong, and I’m still willing to get on. It’ll be okay.”

You can only sigh in response, still not thrilled about the idea. 

Soon enough, it is your turn to get on. The attendant locks the lap bar down, securing you in. Reid notices your shift in energy pretty quickly. You nervously pick at your cotton candy, continuing to eat even though you’re starting to feel a little nauseous.

“Give me that. You’ve had enough. Nervous eating is a bad habit. You’re going to make yourself sick,” He says as he pulls the bag from your hand. You reluctantly let it go, knowing that he’s right. He grabs your now-free hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

You feel the ride stop when you get to the top. You hold your breath a little, trying to push down the uneasy feeling in your stomach. The view really is beautiful, as long as you don’t look down. The sun is finally dipping just below the horizon, casting a pink glow over everything. 

“Hey, you’re okay. Look at me,” You hear Reid say. 

As you turn to face him, he grabs the back of your neck with one of his hands, pulling you towards him. Before you have a chance to register what’s going on, his lips are on yours. You can faintly taste the sweetness of the cotton candy on his lips. All of the anxiety that has built in your stomach melts away instantly, and you bring your hands up to tangle in Reid’s hair. You try desperately to deepen the kiss, but Reid pulls away from you as the ride starts moving. He leaves his hand on your neck, brushing his thumb gently against your hairline.

“Well that’s just not fair,” You squeak out quietly. He chuckles at you before removing his hand. You reach out to grab it with your own, lacing your fingers with his. You rest your head on his shoulder while you wait to be lowered back to the ground.

Once at the bottom, the attendant releases the two of you. Reid leads you back towards the parking lot, leaving your fingers intertwined with his. You’re silent as you walk, trying to relive that moment over and over again in your head. He opens the car door for you yet again. You wait to speak until he sits down.

“How long did you have that one planned?” You ask.

“To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure when I was going to do it. I could tell you were panicking, and I figured that wasn’t a bad way to take your mind off of it. Are you okay if we head back to my place?” You nod in reply to his question, the anxiety instantly returning. 

The drive back takes almost an hour. You curl yourself up in your seat as best you can, fighting the sugar crash that hits you about half way. You close your eyes for a moment.

“Are you okay?” You hear Reid ask.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“You just seem quiet.”

“Well I did just eat more sugar in the last two hours than I have in a very long time. It’s just making me sleepy.”

“I can take you home if you want. You don’t have to come over,” Reid offers. 

He’s giving you an out.

You don’t even hesitate to reply.

“I’m fine, I promise. It’s just a little sugar crash.”

He nods as he continues navigating the streets back to his apartment. 

When you arrive, Reid grabs your hand and leads you up the stairs. He unlocks the door quickly, and tosses his keys on the table next to the door after you enter. After locking the deadbolt, he turns to face you. He leaves his arms hanging at his sides and looks at you with an unreadable expression.

He’s doing it again. Giving you another chance to leave. 

You take a couple steps towards him. Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, you pull his body to be flush with yours. Your lips crash into his with more urgency. He groans into the kiss, which makes you try and pull him into your body harder. 

You don’t know how tonight’s going to end, but you definitely don’t mind how it’s beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, y'all should really know by now that I'm a fan of cliffhangers...


	15. When You Don't Try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Anxiety/Panic Attacks, slight reference to self harm

As you grab a fistful of Reid’s shirt and pull his body against yours, he groans into your mouth. You know instantly that you need to get him to make that sound again. He brings his hands up to either side of your face, tilting your head a little so he can kiss you even harder. You don’t taste the cotton candy like you did on the ferris wheel. Instead, his lips taste like fresh mint. 

Somewhere between getting off the ferris wheel and getting back to the apartment, he managed to sneak a mint into his mouth. 

That jerk knew this was going to happen. 

Reid drops his hands to your waist, his fingers ghosting up and down your sides. You’re not sure if he’s restraining himself for his sake or yours. His movement gives you a chance to let go of his shirt, moving your hands up to his hair. You run your fingers through his hair for a moment before tugging on it lightly near the base of his skull. 

Reid breaks away from you for a moment, leaving less than in inch between the two of you. You hear him release a deep breath. 

“Are you sure you want this?” He asks. You feel his breath against your lips as he speaks. Your eyes are still closed. You worry that if you open them and see him in his current state, it’ll trigger something in you. 

“I’m sure,” You whisper against his mouth. 

“I need you to look at me when you say that. I need to know that you’re not hiding behind anything right now,” He says gently, without any hint of judgement in his voice. You’re glad he’s being respectful, but he’s going to be the death of you. 

It takes you a moment before you can open your eyes and look at him. You’ve messed up his hair, and his face is flushed from your activities just a minute before. You had hoped that when you opened your eyes you would feel the butterflies again. Instead, you feel a sinking feeling in your stomach. The last time someone touched you like this, you didn’t want it. 

“I told you I’m sure,” You say before crashing your mouth back into his. He reciprocates, but you can feel hesitation. He knows you’re bluffing. Instinctually, you drop your hands to his belt, trying to prove to him, as well as to yourself, that you’re serious. He drops one of his hands to grab your wrist.

“No. Not yet.”

The sternness in his voice surprises you, making you pull back from him. 

“What the hell, Reid?” You get defensive. You can actively feel yourself putting walls up. 

“I don’t think you actually want this right now. I think you want to want it, but I also think it’s too much for you.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” You say, keeping your voice low. It’s not up to him to decide what you do or do not want. You back away from him a little farther. You can feel tears starting to prick at the corners of your eyes. 

Reid doesn’t try to come any closer to you. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to tell you what you’re feeling. I just want to make sure I’m not moving too fast and freaking you out,” Reid replies softly. He puts his hands in his front pockets and rolls back on his heels a little while he waits for you to respond. 

“I told you I’m fine. You don’t need to treat me like I’m broken,” You bite back. You feel the tears start to roll down your cheeks. Your heart rate starts to pick up, and a faint ringing starts building up in your ears.

No, not here.

Not now.

You make a move for the door, reaching out to grab your purse off the table by the door. Before you even get halfway there, Reid steps in front of you and grabs your upper arm. It startles you enough to interrupt the carefully controlled breathing exercise you were trying to subtly work through. Your breath starts getting caught in the back of your throat, your exhales coming out like hiccups. Your body is too hot, the room is too small. 

You need out. 

“There is no way I’m letting you leave like this. You can lock yourself in the bathroom for all I care, but you’re not running.”

You rip yourself backwards out of his grip, turning on your heels to get as far away from him as possible. You don’t know where the bathroom is, but his apartment is small enough that it shouldn’t be hard to find. 

The first door you open leads to his bedroom. You notice a neatly made bed and bookshelves lining the walls before turning away to try another door. You’re successful on your second try. 

You slam the door shut behind you and reach to lock the door, but there’s no lock on the handle. Your brain is moving so fast that you don’t have time to stop and care about the fact that he knew about that. He knew you would come in here, and he knew that he would be able to follow you. 

You slide your back down the wall, sinking to the cool tile floor. You bring your knees to your chest and let your head fall back against the wall. Your breathing comes out in shudders, no longer able to be controlled. 

Of course you would go and mess this up.

Why did you ever think you could have anything normal in your life?

You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing more hot tears to run down your cheeks.

After a couple minutes, you hear a soft knock on the door before it opens. Reid sits across from you, knees to chest with his back against the vanity cupboard door. He rests his chin on his knees, taking a brief moment to watch you. 

You’re still struggling to control your breathing, and the tears show no signs of stopping. You start to dig your nails into your arm, leaving little half-moon indents that you hope will make you snap out of it.

“Hey, stop. There’s no need for that. Come over here, let me help you,” Reid says quietly, reaching out to grab one of your arms. You let him guide you over. You sit with your back to his chest, and he wraps his arms around your shoulders and applies even pressure. “Match my breathing, if you can. It’ll help.”

You shut your eyes and try to slow your breathing. It still comes out shaky, but it’s much easier when you have something to follow. Your eyes finally dry, but your hands still shake violently. Reid places his warm hands over yours, and you suddenly realize how cold you got sitting on the tile floor. 

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, not daring to say anything else lest the tears come back. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Reid replies. You hate how nice he is to you.

“Yes I do. I led you on, and I know you wanted things to go farther than they did. I’m sorry I freaked out and ruined it all. I’m sorry that I’m stupid and broken.”

“You are in no way broken. You experienced a trauma that still affects you physically when triggered. There’s nothing abnormal about that. And I only want things to go as far as you’re comfortable with. If it’s not fun for you, then it’s not fun for me. Simple as that,” Reid says, adjusting a little so you fall further back into his chest. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” You ask.

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.” You can feel Reid laugh a little against your back. You think back to your first case, back to when Reid helped you shower after you killed the unsub. He’s been so nice since day one. 

All you’ve done in return is cry on him. 

Several times. 

“Did you know this was going to happen?”

“I figured it was a strong possibility. When I asked you to come over, you looked like a deer in headlights. Part of me thought you may just be a little nervous and you’d warm up. The other, bigger part of me thought it might be the trauma coming back. I wasn’t going to mind either way.”

Reid places a soft kiss on your shoulder, causing goosebumps to erupt down your arm.

“Are you cold? We can move this to the couch. I have plenty of blankets.”

You nod before standing up. You offer your hand to him to help him stand, and he takes it. The two of you walk back out to the living room. Reid pulls a basket out from under one of the end tables. He grabs a big, fluffy blanket and wraps it around your shoulders. He takes a seat on the couch, gesturing for you to sit next to him. As you sit, he finds a pillow and adjusts you so that your head is laying in his lap. He turns on the tv for some background noise, not really caring what’s on. It looks like some silly crime-drama. 

The two of you sit in silence for a while, just enjoying each others’ company. Reid slowly works on undoing your braids. He gently runs his fingers through your hair, and you let out a content sigh. You have to fight to stay awake instead of drifting off to the rhythm of Reid’s breathing.

“Thank you,” You say quietly, flipping onto your back so you can look up at him.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, was anybody going to tell me that the whole "thank you for being you" thing is actually a line that is said in the show, or was I just supposed to figure that out myself?
> 
> Because it came up in an episode I watched last night, and I had to keep myself from screeching.


	16. When You Crack

You stop by the grocery store on your way to work on Monday, selecting a few of Spencer’s favorite snacks. You want to surprise him with something every day this week as a ‘thank you’ for being so kind. He dropped you back off at your apartment on Saturday night, kissing you on the forehead before you walked back into your apartment. It was beyond embarrassing to have a panic attack at his house, but you’re thankful for the way he handled it. 

You get to the office early. Typically you’re one of the first to arrive, bested only by Reid and Hotch. You think an extra forty-five minutes would be early enough to beat Reid, but you’re sadly mistaken. He’s already seated and working when you walk in. 

There’s a coffee with a note waiting on your desk.

‘Happy Monday. -R’

You resist the urge to throw the bag of sour gummy worms that you bought at him. You’ll just have to find time to sneak them onto his desk later. 

Neither of you make any mention of the coffee when you greet each other at the team’s daily meeting. You don’t want to turn it into a competition over who can be nicer than the other. 

In the early afternoon, Reid gets up to grab his lunch from the breakroom. With almost impressive speed, you grab the bag of gummy worms out of your bag and toss them on his desk. You decide that leaving a note is too risky right now. You’ll just leave one on Friday. 

When you return to your seat, Emily gives you a look over the divider.

“What’s that all about?” She questions, looking between you and Reid’s desk.

“Nothing. He just keeps buying me coffee so I figured I’d return the favor,” You explain as you go back to your work. She doesn’t press the issue, returning to her work as well. 

When Reid gets back to his desk, you hear him chuckle a little before sitting down and continuing his work. He doesn’t say anything to you, which you’re almost thankful for. 

No big cases come through on Monday, and you all get to leave the office on time. Reid manages to slip out without you noticing, so you don’t get to say good-bye. It always stings a little when he leaves without saying anything, but you’re learning to not take it personally. 

\---

Just as you roll out of bed to get ready for work on Tuesday, your phone rings. You’re greeted by JJ’s voice on the other end, telling you to get to the office to discuss a new case. Before long, the team is on the jet and heading up to New York City. For as large of a city that New York is, the team doesn’t get called there as often as you thought they would.

This unsub is a classic, abducting sex workers from various bars and clubs across town. They show up in alley ways and abandoned lots across the city, with no obvious reasoning behind the choice of victim or dumping location, other than the fact that they’re sex workers. As soon as you arrive, the team gives the local law enforcement the basic rundown of the profile you’ve previously built about this type of situation. The convenient part of this case is that the victims are abducted throughout the work week, so you don’t have to wait for the weekend to start patrolling.

Hotch splits the team up so you can all head to a number of bars to interview staff and regulars. Hotch heads with you and Reid, while Emily, Morgan, and JJ head out together. Rossi stays at the field office interviewing the victims’ families to hopefully make a discovery about exactly what type of girl the unsub is after. 

As you hop from bar to bar, you don’t get much information. The bartenders haven’t noticed anybody out of place, and there haven’t been any particularly violent interactions lately. You’re talking to the bartender at the fourth location when a voice from behind you sends a chill down your spine. 

“Hey, [y/n], didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” A deep male voice says. You turn to see the ex-boyfriend you left a little over four months ago, Daniel, standing in front of you. 

“I’m here working, if you’ll excuse me,” You say shortly as you flash him your badge and begin to walk away. He grabs you by the elbow, and your entire body locks up.

“Looks like they haven’t trained you well enough over there. You know you’d stay if I asked you to,” Daniel says, tightening his grip on your arm. You grit your teeth as your heart rate instantly increases. You don’t meet his eyes, instead taking the time to look around for Hotch and Reid. You can’t seem to find either of them.

“You mean nothing to me. I left you for a reason. Now, if you’ll kindly let me go, we’re trying to catch a murderer here,” You snap as you try to yank your arm, but he only holds on tighter.

“That’s not how I recall leaving things. What do you say we give it another shot?” Daniel slurs. He’s clearly drunk, but not quite drunk enough to lose his strength or motivation. You know that you can’t pull your gun on him, but you want nothing more than to shoot him in the hand. He can’t be a surgeon with only one hand. Instead, you stand still, completely frozen. 

“I would rather die than spend another moment alone with you. Now, let me go.”

“Now, that’s not the [y/n] I remember. You always used to be so willing,” He says, leaning towards you. You fight down the urge to vomit on the spot. The sudden anxiety is overwhelming, and it overrides all of your training on how to escape potentially dangerous situations. 

“She said no,” Reid says from behind you. Daniel lets go of you and takes a step backwards. Reid places a hand in your back pocket. You’re not sure if it’s a show to get Daniel to back off, or if it’s to assert his dominance. Either way, Daniel definitely notices.

“Ah, I see. You’ve managed to seduce him too. How about the other guys in the office. I know how you like to sleep around-” Daniel trails off. You know he’s just trying to get under your skin, but you can’t stop yourself as the blinding rage overwhelms you. 

Before anybody can react, you land a solid punch right to Daniels face. He stumbles backwards, and his hand flies up to his nose. As he pulls his hand away, you see the blood pouring down his face. You feel a smile creep over your face. You tighten your fist, ready to hit him again. Reid wraps his arms around you, effectively restraining you for the moment.

“It’s not worth it. Please stop so we can get out of here,” Reid whispers in your ear, not taking his eyes off of Daniel in case he comes after you. You can see Hotch staring at you across the room as you look just past Daniel’s shoulder. You let Reid pull you backwards towards the entrance of the bar. He at least allows you the dignity of walking out of the building on your own. As soon as you’re out in the cool night air, you release your pent up anger into the brick wall, landing another hard punch. You feel the skin on your knuckles split open. You rear back to ready another punch, but you stop yourself when you see Hotch exit the building. 

“Get in the car, we’re going back to the hotel,” Hotch says shortly. You obey, following behind him as you head back towards the SUV. The ride back to the hotel is uncomfortably silent. You know what’s coming, but you don’t regret your actions. When you arrive, Hotch has Reid stay in the lobby as he follows you back up to your room. You turn to face him before opening your door, bracing for impact.

“What you did was incredibly stupid and irresponsible-” Hotch starts.

“I know, Sir. I’m very sorry for my actions,” You lie through your teeth.

“Don’t interrupt me. You could have endangered other patrons of that establishment with your actions. You could have jeopardized the team. You know that Strauss watches us all like hawks, waiting for us to make mistakes. What if that man decides to sue?”

“He won’t. He’s a narcissistic surgeon-in-training. He won’t risk his career or his ego over a lawsuit,” You reply confidently, trying not to sound too belligerent. 

“Either way, you are to stay in this room until tomorrow morning. I’ll have JJ come and get you and bring you to the office. You’re not to go out in the field for the rest of the investigation, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Off the record, is that who I think it was?” Hotch asks, softening just a little.

“Yes.”

“If that ever happens again, let me know. Reid and I have better ways of humiliating him in public that won’t get us all in trouble,” Hotch says. You think you see a small smirk peeking through. 

“Yes, Sir. Again, I’m very sorry for my actions. It won’t happen again.”

Hotch gives you a nod before turning to walk down the hallway. You retreat back to your room. When you finally take a look at your hand, you wince. It’s bruised and bloodied from punching the brick wall. It hurts like hell, but it was worth it. You wash it off in the sink, cleaning it as best you can with the few supplies you have. Since you’re on your own for the rest of the night, you throw on some pajamas and head right to bed.

JJ knocks on your door at 7:30am. You’re already dressed and ready to go. She gives you a once-over when you open the door, and the two of you remain silent on your journey to the police station. You’re glad that she is driving, because your hand is pretty swollen and painful this morning. At least it stopped bleeding. 

When you arrive, you take a seat in the conference room to go over the information you gathered last night. It’s not much help, so you hope Prentiss and Morgan bring something good. The team assembles shortly after you arrive, tossing information back and forth. Reid gives you a sad look when he catches a glance at your hand. You ignore him and keep working the profile. 

The next two days are deathly boring. Another body shows up in an alley, apparently sporting some piece of information that gives the unsub away. The entire team heads out to make the arrest, leaving you by yourself in the office. You spend the time packing up all of the team’s supplies in anticipation of their return. They come back a couple hours later, all in one piece. 

You’re back in Quantico before sundown. At least it’s the weekend, so you won’t have to face anybody for another few days. You get a text from Garcia on your way home. Apparently Reid told her what happened, and she wants to set up a girl’s weekend. You shoot her down, telling her that your hand is pretty sore and you need to rest. You know that she doesn’t buy your lie, but she leaves you alone anyways. 

Reid makes no attempt to contact you all weekend. You’re sure that he talked with Garcia and knows that you want your space. It’s probably for the best. You don’t want to accidentally take any residual anger out on him. 

You get an email from Hotch on Sunday morning. He explains that he won’t tell Strauss as long as you don’t. It’ll be your secret unless it happens again. You’re thankful for his mercy, knowing that it could cost you your job if she finds out. 

You spend the rest of your weekend lazing about, icing your hand to help get the swelling down before you have to go back to work. 

By the time Monday morning rolls around, you’re in a much better mood. You just hope that it can stay that way for a while.


	17. When it isn't Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like it on the record that I spent so much time formatting the text conversation that happens in this chapter so it would look cool, but AO3 completely erased it and I can't make it work. Sorry for how wonky it looks. I'll probably avoid text conversations in the future.

The heckling starts shortly after you arrive at the office on Monday.

“Hey, Rocky. How’s the hand?” Morgan jests as he settles down at his desk.

“Careful with the jokes, Morgan. You might be next,” Emily jokes back, looking at you to make sure she’s not pushing it too far. You just laugh and shake your head before settling down at your own desk. You’re glad they think the situation is funny instead of being ashamed of you.

Reid comes in a little late. He looks more tired than normal, and he’s rather disheveled. You give him a look as he sits at his desk, but he doesn’t acknowledge you. Once he sets his belongings down, he reaches over the divider to set an iced coffee and a note on your desk. 

‘I hope your hand is feeling better. -R’

You quickly scribble a note on a piece of paper before balling it up and tossing it back over the divider.

‘It actually is. Thank you.’

You hear him smooth out the paper before beginning to type away at his computer. You all spend the next several hours typing furiously, trying to catch up on reports from the last two cases. You hear Reid sigh deeply a couple of times, clearly frustrated. You were going to wait and sneak the next snacks onto his desk, but he seems like he needs some support now.

You reach into your back and pull out a package of mini Kit-Kats, another one of his favorites. You lob it blindly over the divider, silently cheering for yourself when you hear it land squarely on his desk. Reid lets out a little noise in surprise, followed by a laugh. He doesn’t say anything, but you hear him tear the bag open and begin eating while he continues typing. That’s good enough for you. 

The week continues uneventfully. You all have time to finish your reports and begin working on smaller consults for other law enforcement agencies across the country. You’re able to send out several profiles, hoping that they can clear some things up for at least one case. 

Reid seems particularly stressed all week. The two of you don’t talk much, but you offer support where you can. You provide him with plenty of coffee and snacks as motivation, also tossing some encouraging notes over the divider every now and again. He never brings up what’s bothering him, but you don’t push him for anything he’s not willing to tell you.  
You walk back through your apartment door on Friday evening, relieved that you had an easy week and now a quiet weekend to look forward to. You love your job, but sometimes you need a moment to slow down and breathe. You spend some time cleaning your apartment, which is something that doesn’t get done often enough. You settle down to enjoy a book with a glass of wine when you hear your phone go off. When you check it, you see a text from Reid.

‘Hey. Sorry I’ve been kind of off this week.  
I hope you don’t think it’s anything personal.’

‘I didn’t think it was personal. I would have said  
something if I did. I knew you’d tell me when  
you were ready.’

‘Yeah. My mom’s just not doing great right now. I’ve been  
staying up pretty late every night to talk to her. It’s just  
hard when I can’t be there for her.’

‘I can’t even imagine how hard that is for you. You know  
that I’m here if you need anything. All you need to do is  
ask.’

‘Thank you. And thanks for the snacks, by the way. They  
definitely helped.’

‘No worries. I know good snacks help me when I feel like  
garbage. I was hoping they’d help you too. Now get some  
sleep. You look like death.’

‘Yes ma’am. Have a good night.’

‘You too. Sleep well, pretty boy.’

You wait to see if he responds, but it looks as though he’s following your command. You try to continue reading your book, but you can’t get your mind off of Reid. He doesn’t talk about his mother much, but you know how much she means to him. You can’t begin to fathom how difficult it would be to be so far away from someone you care about that much. 

You haven’t felt anything similar since you were a child. Your mother was suddenly ripped out of your life when you were eight. She worked in a lab at a local university. You don’t remember exactly what she studied, but you remember the accident. Something sparked in the lab, immediately engulfing the entire facility in an inferno. A few people made it out, but your mother wasn’t so lucky. She died in the flames alongside a dozen others. You remember seeing the headlines for months after the accident. You never read the articles. It was too much for you to handle then, and it’s still too much now. You know she didn’t mean to, but she left you alone with your father. It’s one of the worst mistakes someone could have made for you.

You pull yourself up off of the couch before you can ruminate too much and cause another panic attack. You place your glass in the sink after chugging the remainder of your drink. There is never a reason to waste good wine. 

You take a quick shower before jumping in bed, making yourself a cozy nest out of several blankets. You fall asleep quickly, sinking into a dreamless state of rest. 

You’re jolted awake around two in the morning to the sound of your phone ringing. You pick up, knowing exactly who’s on the other end.

“We’re meeting at the airport in an hour. It’s a kid,” JJ says quickly. You grunt a little so she knows that you understand before hanging up.

You throw on a nice sweater and some fitted dress pants. You want to be comfortable, but you know you’ll be heading straight to the field office where a grieving family is waiting. You grab your go bag from its home by your front door before hopping in your car and heading to the airport. 

Everyone looks just as tired as you feel. Spencer looks like he’s moments away from death. You flop down in the seat next to him and pull your favorite emergency snack from your go bag:

Chocolate covered espresso beans. 

The two of you share from the container while Hotch and JJ brief everyone on the case. You have to cut Reid off after a little while because eating straight coffee beans has a lot more caffeine than just drinking a couple cups. 

When you land, JJ, Reid, Hotch, and yourself head straight for the office while the others head to the abduction site. The kid has been gone for twelve hours already, so there’s not a lot of working time before the unsub is likely to dump a body. 

The team quickly settles into their usual roles, working like a well-oiled machine. However, even with the cooperation of the family and the incredible amount of details you’re able to piece together, the clock hits the 24 hour mark. You don’t stop working, but you know what the outcome is likely to be. It makes you sick to think about it. Even with all of your training, it never gets easier to think about someone hurting a child. 

Around hour 36, all of you are running on no sleep, gallons of coffee, and very little food. You get a phone call with an anonymous tip after JJ holds a press conference hoping to lure out the unsub. 

For some reason, that always seems to work. 

Everyone quickly throws on their gear and loads up in the SUVs. There’s not a lot of time to make a plan, so you’re pretty much heading in blind. You drive out into the woods for almost an hour before heading out on foot. Everyone is sent out in pairs to comb the area. Hotch has learned that you and Reid are almost unstoppable as a team, so you’re sent out together. 

After about forty minutes of searching, something creaks under your foot beneath the leaves. Reid hears it too, aiming his gun off to the side of where your foot is located. You lean down to brush the leaves from the area, and you uncover a wooden hatch. You don’t want to risk wasting more time, since you’ve probably alerted the unsub to your presence already. You and Reid give each other a quick nod before you pull the hatch open. Reid aims his gun and flashlight down the hole, but you can only see a ladder. 

Throwing caution to the wind, you head down the ladder. Reid follows suit, though you know he’s criticizing your reckless behavior in his head. When your feet hit the stone floor, you notice only a single hallway for you to head down. It continues for about a hundred feet before ending in a steel door. Reid places a hand on the handle, waiting for you to get in position to cover the door when he opens it. 

Before you’re ready, the door flies open towards you, crushing Reid’s arm back up against the wall. It only takes a split-second for you to register that the adult-sized figure on the other side of the door also has a gun in their hand. You aim and fire for their leg, effectively disarming them for the moment. Reid grabs their gun and holds them down with his foot, signalling for you to go through and find the child. 

Beyond the door, there is a single large room. A kitchen is built against one wall and bunk beds mounted onto another. A single toilet and shower head are mounted in one corner of the room. In the last corner you look to, there is a single cage with a padlock holding it shut. On the inside, there’s a young girl curled up in the corner, crying. You call for Reid to find a set of keys on the unsub, and he quickly tosses them to you. You’re able to convince the little girl to come to you, not wanting to invade her space and cause more damage than what’s already been done. When she makes her way close enough to you, you pick her up and carry her down the hall towards the ladder.

“Hey, you wanna ride on my back like a koala?” You ask her, trying to lighten her mood. You feel her little head nod against you. You flip her around so she’s holding onto your back, freeing your hands. “Okay, you need to hold on really tight. I don’t want you to fall.”

You keep one hand behind you, applying a little pressure to the girl’s back to keep her from falling backwards. With your bad hand, you manage to slowly ascend the ladder. When you get to the top, you can see the team approaching in the distance. You bring the girl back around to your front, holding her head down so she doesn’t get scared by the large group of people approaching. 

“I’ve got her,” You call. “We incapacitated the unsub. Reid’s still down there with him.”

You continue to walk back the way you came. The team left the parents at the entrance to the woods in case the girl came out in bad shape. They’re easy enough to find, and they come running towards you when you pass through the treeline. You hand her back over to her crying parents, guiding them to the ambulance that’s waiting. 

“She’s going to need some medical attention, but she doesn’t look too bad,” You tell them as they get settled in for the ride. “They’re going to take her to the hospital to be evaluated. If they offer to get her in with a psychologist or therapist, don’t ignore them. Get her help. She may be little, but this will stick with her.”

They nod as you exit the ambulance. One thing that always bothers you about your job is the amount of people who expect the victims to go on as if nothing has happened to them, especially the children. The ambulance peels out of the parking lot and heads back towards town. The other team of medics is not far behind, carrying the unsub on a gurney. You know they can’t, but you wish they would just take him straight to the precinct and let him suffer. 

The team all piles back into the SUVs, heading back to the hotel for the evening. It’s pretty late, and you haven’t eaten a real meal in over 24 hours, so you order room service. After taking a quick shower to wash off the grime of the woods, you realize that you haven’t seen or heard from Reid since you left the bunker. You throw on some leggings and a hoodie before heading to his room. He’s only a couple doors down from you.

You take a deep breath before knocking on his door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shall I publish two chapters per day on the weekends? 
> 
> I think I should.
> 
> That just means that I better get writing....


	18. When He Gives In

You knock gently on Reid’s door, hoping he’s still awake. Much to your relief, he opens the door only moments after you pull your hand away.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” He asks, sounding genuinely surprised. His hair is a little messier than normal, and he’s wearing his dress shirt with his pajama pants.

“I just wanted to check in on you. We got split up earlier, and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. Great job back there, by the way,” Reid says quickly. His voice goes up about three octaves, giving away the fact that he’s not really fine.

“Thanks. We definitely got lucky back there. Do you mind if I come in?” You ask, already halfway through the door. Reid moves aside to let you in. He walks over to grab his water bottle off the nightstand, and you notice that he grabs it with his left hand instead of his right. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure. I’m just a little sore from being hit with the door earlier,” He replies. His voice is still a little high, and it feels like he’s avoiding you.

“Why are you wearing your dress shirt with comfy pants?”

He gives you a pleading look. You know why. He knows that you know why. You just want to hear him ask for help.

“Because I hurt my shoulder and I can’t get it off,” He says quietly. 

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“Do you want me to help?” You ask, giving him plenty of space to say no. 

“Yes, please. I don’t really feel like sleeping in this shirt.”

You move towards him, and he stands completely still. You start by rolling his sleeves down. You understand the appeal of rolling your sleeves up when you go out in the field, but it does make it much more difficult to get the shirt back off. You begin to unbutton his shirt, glancing up at him to make sure everything’s still okay. He’s looking at the wall behind you, clearly avoiding eye contact. He’s wearing one of your favorite shirts, an eggplant colored button-up that complements his complexion nicely. 

When you finish with the last button, you push the shirt off of his shoulders. You feel his muscles tense as you run your hands down his arms. He’s left standing in front of you with only his undershirt covering his upper body. He still won’t make eye contact with you.

“Do you want help getting that off too?” You ask as you fold his shirt and place it on the dresser. He simply nods as a response. You bunch up the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up over his torso. You guide his left arm and head through their respective holes before pulling it down his right arm. You want to take in the half-naked form standing in front of you, but you keep your eyes on his face. There’s no need to make him any more uncomfortable than he already is. 

“Thanks. I really appreciate your help, but I think I’m-” He cuts himself off with a groan as he reaches towards you with his bad arm. His face is screwed up with pain until he drops his arm back to his side, his good hand coming up to his shoulder.

You take a moment to look over where he was hit with the door earlier. There’s some light bruising on the front, but it’s not very dark or swollen. Likely just some surface bruising and a pinched nerve.

“Go lay face-down on the bed. I think I can help fix it,” You say, placing his undershirt on top of the dresser as well. Reid raises his eyebrows at you, and you raise yours right back. “It’s called massage therapy. I’m pretty good at it.”

“I don’t know-” You cut him off by pushing him towards the bed. He lays down on his front with his left arm tucked up under his head. His right arm remains by his side. You climb onto the bed with him, straddling his lower back. You know this is weird, but you also know you can help fix him. “Are you sure your hand is okay? I’m sure it still hurts.”

You can’t help but laugh at him as he rattles off excuses as to why this is a bad idea.

“Reid, that happened over a week ago. It’s not like I broke it. It was just some bruising. I’m fine,” You explain from above him. You place your hand on his back, feeling his muscles contract at your touch. “Wait. I need lotion or something. It’ll hurt you if my hands catch on your back. Let me run and grab some from my room and I’ll be right back,” You jump back off of him. He turns to look towards you from his position on the bed.

“I have some in my bag. It’s in the side pocket.”

You take a moment to rifle through his bag, and you find a small bottle of unscented lotion right where he said it would be. 

“Reid, do I even want to know?” You ask as you walk back towards him. You feel him laugh underneath you as you position yourself over his back once again. 

“It’s not a crime to want soft hands, you know,” He states, putting your questionable thoughts to rest. You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you. 

You squeeze a small amount of lotion onto his back, and he tenses at the cold sensation. You spread it out evenly, hoping to warm him back up with your hands. You spend a little time pressing around his back, feeling all of the knots in his muscles. You’ve called him out on his terrible posture in the past, and you can feel the consequences of his bad habits under your hands. You try to be gentle as you press over his right shoulder. You can feel a large, solid piece of muscle resist the pressure you apply. 

“Yep. Exactly what I thought,” You say as you attempt to press your palm over the spot without hurting him too much. 

“What, are you some sort of expert on muscle tension?” Reid quips, likely feeling pretty vulnerable from his current position.

“It’s called muscle guarding. It happens when you get hurt. All of the muscles in the area around the injury contract to protect it from further damage. There’s no way to release it without something like massage therapy or muscle relaxers, and I’m pretty sure you’re not interested in the latter,” You explain as you push a little harder with the heel of your hand. You feel Reid inhale sharply underneath you. You think that he probably knows all of that, but he’s too preoccupied by the pain. “I’m sorry. It’s not going to feel good now, but I promise it won’t hurt as bad tomorrow.”

“Again, why are you some sort of expert-” He cuts himself off with a deep breath as you press down particularly hard. 

“I was a cheerleader in high school, remember? I was on the varsity competition team. Between kicking each other while stunting or hurting ourselves tumbling, we all got pretty good at basic pain remedies. We’d all spend the night together after a competition and try to work on each other’s injuries. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, given that we were all teenage girls who didn’t really know what they were doing. But I feel like I learned well enough.”

Reid doesn’t respond as you continue working out the massive knot in his shoulder. You bounce back and forth between working on his shoulder and working your way down his spine, giving him a momentary break from the pain. You spend the better part of an hour working on Reid’s back. He doesn’t react as badly when you press on his shoulder, and it feels like the muscle is starting to relax a little bit. 

“I can work on your lower back, too, if you want. I know you complain that it hurts sometimes when you hunch over at your desk for too long. Plus, massage therapy activates the same part of your brain that opioids do. So, you know, it’ll feel pretty good,” You try to explain without sounding too strange. You just figure that you should finish the job while you’ve got him here. Reid nods a little, making a small hum of approval. You can see his eyelashes fluttering shut. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen Reid this relaxed.

You slide a little farther down his back, seating yourself on the backs of his thighs. You feel him shift a little underneath you, getting comfortable with your new position. You press your thumbs into his lower back pretty hard, moving them up his spine. You repeat this process for several minutes, feeling the knots dissipate beneath your fingers. You work as low down on his spine as you can without getting inappropriate. You begin to run the palms of your hands out sideways, towards his hips. You feel the vibrations through your hands as Reid groans and adjusts his hips. You pause for a minute to let him get settled again. 

“Sorry ‘bout that. It just feels nice,” Reid breathes, his voice muffled by his arm. 

“There’s no need to be sorry. Like I said, it’s supposed to feel good. I don’t mind,” You reply as you continue your work up his spine. Soon enough, you’re able to put most of your weight onto your hands and not feel any knots under your fingers. Satisfied with your work, you hop off of his back and walk to the bathroom to wash the lotion off of your hands. You think you hear him whine a little when you leave him, but you could just be hearing things. 

When you come back to the bedroom, Reid is sitting upright in bed, watching you. He looks absolutely disheveled, with his hair mussed up and eyes heavy. You decide to stay where you are, afraid of where things might go if you get too close to him. You lean on the wall near the doorway, locking eyes with him. 

“Leaving so soon?” Reid asks with more confidence than you’ve ever heard come from him. 

“Yes. The plane leaves early tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep. Good night, princess,” You joke as you turn to leave. As you softly shut the door behind you, you can hear Reid’s voice from the bedroom.

“Good night. Sweet dreams.”


	19. When You Shatter

Life continues on as normal for a while. The team flies all over the country, solving cases easily without anybody getting hurt. 

Emily, JJ, Penelope, and yourself spend a weekend at a rented beach house, getting away from the boys and the chaos of the BAU. Morgan spends three days trying to convince you to invite him along, but he’s unsuccessful. 

Reid takes you on a few more dates. You go to the movies together on a Tuesday night, holding hands and resting your head on his shoulder in the darkness. He takes you out to dinner, sometimes to fancy restaurants and other times to small diners. The two of you spend Sunday afternoons at your apartment, reading books and enjoying each other’s company. He never tries to make a move on you. Things never progress past passionate kisses and the occasional hickey. You know he’s fine waiting for you, but you still feel a little guilty. 

\---

A couple months into whatever this is, the nightmares start coming back. It starts slow, with Daniel’s voice popping up here and there in your dreams. One night, Daniel is the unsub in the mansion, forcing you to shoot Reid. 

After two weeks straight of nightmares, the most recent one finally breaks you. Daniel is the unsub again. He’s kidnapped you and has a camera feed set up so the team can watch. He assaults you in many different ways, calling out Reid because he knows he’s watching. 

You shoot up in bed, breathing hard with tears running down your face. Looking at your phone, it’s only two in the morning. You shoot a quick text to Reid asking if you can come over. You don’t even wait for his reply before you jump in your car and head to his building. 

You know you look like a mess. You don’t bother to change out of your sweatpants and sleep shirt. Your hair is still tied back in the french braid that you prefer to sleep in. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying. Reid couldn’t care less about how you look, but you’re still embarrassed.

In less than a half hour, you’re standing outside of Reid’s door. You knock twice, sharp and quick. It’s almost a password that the two of you have created for each other. You hear the lock click open seconds later, and a sleepy-eyed Reid stands on the other side of the door. Before he has a chance to ask any questions, you place your hands on either side of his face and pull him down into a searing kiss. He hesitates for a moment, caught by surprise, but quickly places his hands on your hips after pushing the door shut behind you. He lets you continue your tirade for a moment before breaking for air.

“What’s going on?” Reid pants, his hot breath ghosting over your lips. You’ve still got your eyes closed, forehead leaned against his, and hands on his face. 

“I need you,” You whisper, almost like you’re afraid to say it out loud. 

“I’m flattered. But why is this coming up at two in the morning on a work day?” You can hear the doubt in his voice. You don’t know if he thinks you’re drunk or something, but he certainly doesn’t seem to trust what’s going on. 

“I’m tired of letting him control me. I’m sick of hearing his voice and seeing his face any time I think of doing something remotely intimate. He doesn’t get to be the only one who’s seen me like that anymore. I’m so beyond done with him. I don’t want it to sound like I’m using you, but I want something to replace those images with. I want you,” You say. The firmness behind your voice startles the both of you. 

When you open your eyes to look at Reid, he’s eyeing you up and down. You can’t tell if it’s in disbelief or hunger. Either way, Reid suddenly pushes you backwards, your back hitting the door and his body becoming flush with yours. Your hands switch places, him bringing his to your face and yours dropping to grab at his shirt near his hips. He presses his lips to yours again, the gentleness of his mouth betraying the energy in the room. He pulls his face back slightly, leaving only about an inch between the two of you. 

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” He asks, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” You say as you tug on his shirt, trying to pull him closer even though his body is pressed completely against yours. He simply nods before catching your lips in another kiss, this one much more heated than the last. You spend the next several moments like this, pressed against the door and letting Reid’s tongue explore your mouth. You feel like a couple of teenagers sneaking around after dark. 

With one movement, Reid reminds you that you’re not teenagers, and that he’s a very physically capable adult that is much stronger than you ever give him credit for. Breaking his lips away from yours, he reaches down to grab at the backs of your thighs, using his body to lift you up and press you against the door. You throw your arms around his shoulder in surprise and cross your ankles behind his waist. He keeps one hand on the back of your upper thigh to support you while snaking his other arm around your waist to keep you as close as possible. He places a single kiss to the side of your neck before backing away from the door. 

You feel the hand he has around your waist reach up and pull the hair tie out of your hair. You use one of your hands to break up the braid, shaking your head so your hair hangs loose. Reid works on marking your neck, something he clearly has an affinity for. You feel the small pinch of his teeth nipping at your throat, and you know there’ll be marks left there tomorrow. 

Before long, and far too soon for your liking, Reid tosses you down on his bed. You don’t even have a chance to whine about being cold before he places his body back over yours. Suddenly, you’re brought back to the night in the mansion, with an unsub pointing a gun at you. Reid feels your shift in energy and removes some of his body weight from you.

“Do we need to stop?” He asks, analyzing your face again. It takes all of your strength to keep tears from forming in your eyes. You hate your brain. 

“No. I just… I think I need to be in control here. I think that’s the only way I’m going to be able to make this work,” You say, turning your face away from his so he can’t see the blush forming across your cheeks. You’re startled back to reality when you feel the weight of Reid’s body disappear. He grabs your hand and pulls you to stand with him. You watch as he settles himself onto the bed with his back against the headboard. He tugs on your hand gently, encouraging you to take a seat in his lap. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to expel the anxiety building in your belly. 

Reid grips your hips tight and pulls you into him, causing you to roll your hips forward a little bit. You feel his length slide against you through your clothing, eliciting a small gasp from him. He’s smiling up at you, but it’s not his normal, goofy smile. It’s much darker, like he knows what he’s doing to you. His eyes are filled with some combination of lust and adoration that makes you want to melt into a puddle on the floor. You throw your hand out to grip his headboard, balancing yourself.

“I, uh, I’ve never really done this before. Not this way, at least. So I guess I don’t really know what to do next,” You admit, tangling the fingers of your free hand in the hair on the back of Reid’s head. He laughs underneath you, shifting his body against yours again. 

“Are you asking me to top from the bottom?” Reid asks playfully. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat a little. It became obvious long ago that Reid has more experience than you, but it still catches you off guard when he’s so blatantly sexual. 

“Yes,” You whisper, still refusing to meet his eyes. He doesn’t respond with words, rather by placing more kisses along the junction of your neck and shoulder. He bites down very lightly at a spot just below your ear, causing you to gasp. He found your weak spot and he knows it. He blows a little cool air over the spot, causing goosebumps to erupt across the surface of your skin. You have to place your other hand on his shoulder to steady yourself further. 

Satisfied that you can hold yourself up, Reid starts lightly tracing his fingers up and down your sides. Every now and again, his fingers catch on the fabric of your shirt, hitching it up a little and showing some skin. He plays with the hem of your top, brushing his fingers against the bare skin underneath. 

“You first,” You say, finally meeting his eyes. He obeys, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it across the room. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but it feels very different with him underneath you like this. You rake your eyes up and down his body, not bothering to hide the fact that you’re checking him out. He’s done that to you many times before, so it only feels fair. You see a faint smirk appear on his face before he pulls you back down into a kiss. You feel him tugging at the hem of your shirt, slowly hiking it higher and higher. Eventually you have to break to breathe, and Reid pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it away to be with his. 

You’re suddenly painfully aware of the fact that you don’t wear a bra to bed, so you’re now topless while sitting in Reid’s lap. All of your insecurities come flooding to the forefront of your mind, but they’re silenced by the feeling of Reid’s mouth on your chest. 

He starts by planting a single kiss to the center of your chest, right over your sternum. He never takes his eyes off of your face as he moves his mouth to one breast, his breath ghosting over your nipple and causing it to harden. You want to smack the smile off of his face, but you don’t get a chance before he takes your nipple in his mouth, sucking lightly. Your eyelashes flutter closed at the feeling, and you let out a breathy gasp. You’ve never had anyone pay this kind of attention to your body before and your brain is struggling to keep up. Reid pulls his mouth off of the breast he’s working on and moves his attention to the other. The cool air feels amazing against your skin. Reid bites down ever so gently which causes you to dig your nails into his shoulder. He groans against you, pulling you even closer into him. 

You decide to test the waters by grinding your hips down against his. Reid’s mouth stills on your chest, and you look down towards him. He’s still got his eyes on your face, but he looks more than a little surprised. You remember back to the night after your first date. Lacing your fingers through his hair, you tug lightly while you grind your hips down again, deep and slow. Reid breathes out one of the most delicious moans you’ve ever heard.

“You’re going to kill me if you keep doing that,” Reid chokes out, resting his forehead against your bare chest. You start to roll your hips again, but his hands grip you tight enough to stop you. “We can get back to that, but how do you feel about getting these off?”

All of your anxiety solidifies in your chest again as Reid hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweatpants. Your nod is so small that you’re not sure he can pick up on it. Apparently he does, however, as he starts moving the two of you towards the edge of the bed. He pushes you to stand up, and you already miss the feeling of being seated in his lap. He hooks his fingers in your waistband again, slowly sliding your sweatpants down your legs. You can feel a trail of goosebumps follow in the path that his fingers leave. You kick your pants off of your ankles, sliding them to be discarded with your shirts. Reid spends another moment taking in your almost-naked form standing in front of him. You keep your eyes on his face, hoping he will give you some sort of confidence.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, you know,” Reid says as he reaches out for you. He rubs small circles over your hip with one of his thumbs. Out of nowhere, you feel a wave of confidence crash over you. 

You place one hand on Reid’s shoulder before shoving him backwards. As his back hits the bed, you climb on top of him. Straddling his hips once again, you flip your hair to one side before leaning down to kiss him. You feel him moan against your mouth as your naked form presses into his. His hips buck up into yours, causing you to gasp and break away from him. 

Before your confidence disappears, you move down Reid’s body so you can grab the waistband of his pants. He lifts his hips and allows you to finish undressing him. Like any normal person, Reid doesn’t wear underwear to bed, so he is now sprawled out on the bed in front of you completely naked. You suddenly feel self-conscious about your boldness, so you avert your eyes. You hope Reid doesn’t take that as an insult. You hear him sit back up and his warm hands come to rest on your body again. He’s toying with the edge of your panties, and you feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your face.

“We can stop, if you want. I won’t be offended,” Reid offers. You have a hard time believing that he wouldn’t be devastated if you decide to walk away now. But you don’t want to walk away. You just don’t know how to keep walking forward. 

“I hate that I have no idea what I’m doing. I feel like such a stupid teenager,” You say, moving your hand to rest on his shoulder to prove to yourself that he’s still there. You feel him slide your underwear off, leaving you completely exposed to him. 

“I need you to tell me that you want this. I can’t keep going if I feel like you’re faking it.”

“Yes. I want you. I really really want you. I just have no clue how to show you,” You breath out, meeting his eyes. 

“I can show you, if you’ll let me,” Reid replies, a seriousness laced through his voice. You nod, and he reaches for his bedside table. 

“We don’t have to use a condom, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and I was tested right before I started working with you. I haven’t been with anyone since then. But if you feel safer that way then-” Reid cuts you off with a kiss. He falls onto his back on the bed once again, taking you with him. You continue making out for a little while, and you feel yourself beginning to relax into him again. 

Slowly, Reid rolls the two of you over so he’s on top. He’s using one hand to support himself, and the other is trailing down your body. It comes to rest in the crease between your thigh and hip. Reid uses one of his knees to part yours slightly. He runs his hand over your inner thigh, causing you to shiver. He gently eases one finger inside of you, and you let out a sigh at the feeling. Taking that as encouragement, he continues to move a single finger in and out of you. Soon, Reid adds a second finger, and his thumb finds your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer,” You gasp, biting at the back of your hand to prevent any more noises from coming out. Reid drops his head to your neck, placing light kisses along your collarbone.

“I will do whatever it takes to get you to say my name like that again,” He whispers against your skin. He continues to rub gentle circles on your clit, and you feel like you could scream.

“I need you. Now,” You say suddenly. Reid removes his hand from you, and you push at him with your hip to flip the two of you over. 

Spencer grips your hips tight as you line yourself up with him. Without stopping to think about it, you sink yourself down onto him. While you hold your breath, Reid moans beautifully beneath you. You pause for a moment when you bottom out, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being so full. You would never say anything, but you always had the suspicion that Reid was well endowed. As usual, you’re correct. 

You begin to move your hips slowly, listening for changes in Reid’s breathing to show you that you’re doing the right thing. You lightly scrape your nails down his chest, and he hisses at the feeling. You continue to grind down against Reid, one hand on his chest for balance. He’s got one hand on your hip and the other running through his own hair. For once, you wish you were the one with the eidetic memory. This is the exact picture you want to see when you close your eyes at night. 

Reid bucks up into you, throwing you off balance. His hands come up to catch you, but you still end up falling forward, ending up nose-to-nose with him again. Just as he did earlier, Reid grips your waist and flips the two of you over. 

A moan falls from your mouth when he moves one of your legs to push even deeper. You continue this way for a while, Reid thrusting so deeply it takes your breath away. You can feel a heat pooling in your belly, but the small amount of anxiety that remains in your system keeps it from building. 

Reid’s hips begin to move faster, losing the rhythm he once had. You feel his thrusts stutter as he finishes, moaning your name into your ear and giving you butterflies. He pulls out of you, moving to fill you with his fingers again. You catch his wrist.

“I’m fine. Don’t bother. It’s not worth it,” You say. He removes his hand but looks over you with disbelief. 

“I strongly disagree with you that it’s not worth it. Are you sure you want me to stop?” He asks, starting to rub circles on your hip with his thumb again.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s completely okay. I’m already a little sore anyways.”

It has been a long time since you’ve done that, and your body feels out of practice. Reid grabs your hand and pulls you out of his bed. 

“Either way, we both need to get cleaned up. Care for a shower?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my first time ever writing smut, so I'd like to apologize for that...


	20. How it Works Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Vomiting/Illness

Reid leaves you alone in the bathroom for a moment which gives you a chance to pee and clean yourself up a little bit. You figure out how to turn the water on before he comes back, letting it heat up. Reid jumps in the shower right behind you. 

“Hey, where did my hair tie go earlier?” You ask while you twist your hair into a bun on top of your head. Reid pulls it off of his wrist and hands it to you. You can’t help but smile at him as you secure your hair. The rest of your shower experience remains entirely innocent, Reid stopping occasionally to leave gentle kisses on your shoulders and neck. 

When you get out, Spencer wraps you in a big, fluffy towel. He tosses you one of his old t-shirts as you finish drying off. It’s a little big on you, but it’s definitely comfortable enough to sleep in. You check your phone before heading back into his bedroom. It’s almost four in the morning, and you both have work tomorrow.

“What are the odds that I can tell Hotch that I’m sick and he’ll believe me?” You ask aloud. Reid pauses his mission of preparing the bed for you long enough to laugh at your question. 

“I think it would be a little suspicious since you were fine yesterday,” Reid replies. He walks around to flick off the lights behind you. You let him lead you back to the bed. You climb in first, and he’s not far behind. He tucks up close to you, becoming a slightly less respectful big spoon than last time. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I swear to God, Spencer Reid, if you ask me if I’m okay one more time then I’m really going to not be okay,” You have to stop yourself from continuing on your rant. 

“I just wanted to make sure. I feel bad that I finished and you didn’t.”

“I told you not to worry about it. It’s nothing out of the norm for me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You feel him still behind you, contemplating how to proceed.

“He never let you finish, did he?”

“Can we please not talk about him right now?” You sigh. You knew it would come up, but it still leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 

“Please answer me. I want to know if it’s something I can help with or not.”

“To be honest, I don’t know. Daniel never cared about my feelings. It never mattered to him whether I finished or not. Usually it was over too quickly for me to even think about it.”

“Trauma and anxiety can lead to-”

“Spencer, please stop. I never orgasm because my ex-boyfriend was an ass and didn’t care about me. I know you care about me. My body just didn’t get the memo. It doesn’t really know how.”

You hate cutting him off, but you don’t want to hear a speech about how your trauma broke you even more than you already thought. 

“Are you ever able to do it on your own?” He asks quietly.

“Reid, are you asking me if I masturbate?” 

“Yes, I am. If there are things that you know you like, I can learn them for the future,” He says blatantly. Your heart swells at the thought of him planning for the future, but anxiety continues to build alongside it.

“I don’t, usually. I typically can’t find the time, or it’s just not satisfying enough to be worth it. I can’t tell you the last time I even got close,” You answer plainly. “What about you? If I have to answer embarrassing questions, so do you.”

“I do, actually. It’s good for you, you know. Men who masturbate regularly are ten times less likely to-”

“Do you ever do something just because it feels good in the moment, or do you only follow facts and statistics?” 

The question is supposed to be rhetorical, an opportunity for you to get your mind off of Reid touching himself when he’s alone.

“Most of my life is made up of calculated decisions, but not all of it. Sometimes you just have to get yourself off in the shower because it feels so good and you can’t help yourself,” Reid’s voice drops at least an octave, and you’re suddenly very aware of his breath on your neck. He laughs when he hears your breath hitch in your throat. 

“We should probably get some sleep,” You squeak out. Reid goes silent, draping his arm over you and pulling you towards him. You fall asleep shortly after closing your eyes, only needing to focus on Reid’s breathing for a moment before you can relax. 

\---

You wake to the sound of Reid’s alarm going off, and you’re immediately greeted by a searing pain ripping through your skull. You don’t dare to open your eyes. You know the light will be too bright, the room will start spinning, and it’s all downhill from there. You groan as you pull the covers back over your head, retreating to where it’s cozy and warm. 

“Hey, are you okay?” You hear Reid ask, his voice muffled through the covers.

You can only muster a single word in response: “Migraine.”

He doesn’t reply. You can feel him get out of bed. You think you hear him open the door, but you’re too busy trying to find a position where your head doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode. 

You hear Reid’s footsteps approaching. He places something on the nightstand, and the sound echoes through your brain. You grit your teeth and recoil a little. His hand strokes the comforter a few times, trying to locate you underneath.

“I brought some water. I can grab some pain meds if you want me to. I’m going to get ready for work. You can stay here as long as you need,” He says very quietly. You appreciate his effort to not hurt your brain even more. He pats you a couple of times before walking back out of the bedroom. 

You don’t know how long he’s gone, but you slip in and out of sleep a couple times before he comes back.

“I have to leave. I’ve got my phone on me if you need anything.”

You can only hum a little in response, hoping it’s enough for him to get the message. It seems that he does, because you hear the front door shut quietly a few moments later. 

You don’t remember much of the day. The only cure for your migraines is to sleep them off, so you try to remain unconscious to ease the pain. You fully intend to head home before Reid returns from work, but you lose track of time between naps. Before long, the front door opens again. You hear his footsteps stop at the bedroom door momentarily before disappearing somewhere else in his apartment. 

Your head is feeling a little better, so you hoist yourself out of his bed. You decide to take the comforter with you, not quite ready to leave the warmth behind. You waddle out to the living room, hoping to find Reid somewhere. He happens to be standing in the kitchen, so he spots you as you exit the bedroom. 

“How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?” He puts the glass he was drinking from down on the counter. The noise doesn’t hurt quite as much as it did this morning.

“I’m a little better. I still feel like I’m on a boat, but my head doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode quite as violently,” You try to joke as you sit down on the couch. You still feel like you could sleep for another three days. At least it’s officially the weekend now. 

“Do you need me to take you home?” You hear uncertainty in Reid’s voice as he asks his question. Your reply comes far too quickly.

“No.”

“Okay.”

Reid comes to join you on the couch. He lets you lay your head in his lap, and he gently brushes your baby hairs back with his fingers. 

“I did intend to go home today so I wasn’t just moping around your apartment. I’m still super dizzy, though, so I didn’t feel safe driving,” You explain, feeling the need to validate your decision to stay.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you stayed.”

“I should probably go home at some point, though. I don’t have any of my stuff here. I didn’t really plan things out very well,” You laugh a little, but you have to squeeze your eyes shut when another wave of pain washes over you. Reid’s hand comes to a stop on your forehead.

“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere like this. I can grab some things from your apartment, if you need me to?” Reid offers. You nod a little, and you list off some things for him to grab. He makes a note on his phone before getting up from the couch, setting your head back down gingerly as he stands. You tell him where the spare key is hidden, and he leaves you alone yet again. 

Reid is only gone for about five minutes when the first wave of nausea washes over you. You swallow hard, and you’re able to keep it at bay. A couple minutes later, another wave hits you. You hoist yourself from the couch and find your way to the bathroom. You barely make it before emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You haven’t eaten anything all day, so it’s really only bile, which is almost worse. This happens every few minutes, causing you to dry heave since there’s nothing left in your stomach. You curl yourself up on the floor and the cool tile feels good against your clammy skin. 

The front door opens again, but you can’t lift yourself off the bathroom floor. You hear Reid calling your name, however you don’t have the strength left to respond. Reid appears in the doorway, looking relieved that he finally found you but concerned about the scene in front of him. You’ve given up on feeling embarrassed. You just want to fall asleep. You hear Reid ask you a question, but you just let your eyes fall closed instead of responding. 

You fall asleep for a split second before you feel him lift you from the floor. He carries you bridal-style back to his bedroom, placing you gently on the bed. He leaves for a moment, only to come back with an arm full of blankets. He tucks you under several of them, likely trying to warm you up. You want to thank him, but another wave of nausea hits as you open your eyes, so you quickly squeeze them shut again. You hear him place some sort of bucket by the bed before shutting the door most of the way. He leaves it cracked so he can hear you from the living room. You don’t hear the television turn on, so you assume he’s reading or something. You slip back into unconsciousness quickly, letting your brain rest.

When you wake, you already feel much better. You’re warm again, and your head only hurts a little. The room doesn’t spin when you stand, so you brave a few steps towards the living room. Reid looks up when you open the door. 

“What time is it?” You ask, squinting your eyes at the bright light coming from the dining room. 

“Almost ten. You slept for a few more hours. How are you feeling?” Reid shuts his book, getting up to come over to you. At some point, he changed back into sweatpants and an old t-shirt. 

“I’m feeling okay. I think it’s finally starting to pass. Sorry for passing out in your bathroom, by the way. I haven’t had a migraine this bad in a long time,” You say quietly, trying to justify your actions again.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’m just glad you’re feeling better. You had me worried for a minute,” Reid stops in front of you. He pulls you into a gentle hug, careful not to move you too quickly. You rest your head on his chest, your brain still feeling a little fuzzy. 

“I know I’ve said it before, but thank you for being you.”

“Don’t mention it.”


	21. What He Suggests

Reid manages to convince you to stay the night again, not wanting you to leave until he’s sure you’re safe to drive. You order a pizza to share before heading off to bed, gladly embracing the sleep that washes over you. 

When morning comes, you feel like yourself again. You can open your eyes without feeling the room spin around you. Spencer still has himself plastered to your back with his arms tossed over your body. As you snuggle back into him, you can feel his length pressing against your rear end.

Oh, to be a man. Life would be so simple. 

Emboldened by your now-clear head and ample amount of rest, you roll over to face Reid. You feel him stir a little at the movement, but his eyes remain closed. You begin by placing gentle kisses along his jawline and down his neck. By the time you reach his collarbone, you feel his hands grip you tighter, and he lets out a breathy moan.

“Well good morning to you too,” He breaths out. His voice is scratchy and much deeper than normal. You could get used to this. You continue your attack on his neck, leaving little marks to match the ones he gave you. 

Reid rolls onto his back, grabbing you by the back of the leg to take you with him. You have to let go of him and use one of your arms to hold yourself up so as not to squish him. He uses his own elbow to knock your arm out from underneath you, forcing you to fall flush with his body. He kisses the tip of your nose and gives you a little smile. 

“You seem to be feeling much better this morning,” He says with a laugh. You flip your hair to one side in an attempt to keep it out of his face. You place your hand back where you originally had it, pushing yourself up so you can take in the image of Reid underneath you. He’s got his hands on your hips, probably a little lower than what could be considered respectful, and he’s massaging them through your shirt. 

“Yes, I am feeling much better. I guess almost 24 hours of sleep can help with that,” You reply. You grind your hips down just a little, testing the waters. Reid grinds up against you, and you can feel how hard he is already. You reach down to slide your fingers under the waistband of his pants, but he stops your hand.

“No, not right now,” He says. You expect that with his reaction he’d have some sort of negative emotion behind his voice. Instead, he sounds almost happy? Or proud? You leave your hand where it is and give him a funny look.

“That’s not how this is going to go today. This is going to be about you,” He explains. 

“Reid, I told you, that’s not necessary. And from where I’m sitting, you clearly need some help too,” You say, rolling your hips against his to make your point. His eyes flutter closed at the feeling. You love that you can have this sort of power over him. 

“It is absolutely necessary. I’m not going to keep doing this unless I know that I can make you just as happy as you make me. Please, just give me a chance to make you feel good. It’ll be worth it,” He pleads. You can’t say no to him when he gives you those puppy dog eyes. You sigh a little before reaching for the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head. His hands stop you again. “It’s not time for that yet.”

“Reid, you’re confusing me. I can feel exactly how ready you are right now. You’re telling me that you’re not going to take your pants off, but I’m not supposed to take my shirt off. What is this all about?” You question. You have to push down the feeling that he doesn’t want you, knowing that isn’t the case. It’s hard to not let that thought creep in when he’s fighting you about taking your clothes off.

“First of all, stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself. We’ve established that you can’t, so that’s why we’re going to do this my way. If it really isn’t working, we’ll stop. But this is about your pleasure, not mine. For right now, we’re going to get out of this bed. We’ll each shower and get some breakfast, mainly because I know you haven’t eaten enough over the past 24 hours, and then we’ll get back to this. Okay?” Reid lays it all out for you. You understand what he’s going for, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“Are you going to get yourself off in the shower while I wait in the living room?” You ask bluntly. Your goal is to make him a little uncomfortable as punishment for his plan, but it doesn’t seem to work. 

“I cannot confirm nor deny anything,” He replies. Your eyes go wide as he pushes you off of him. He guides you to the bathroom, grabbing your bag of belongings on the way. He leaves you alone, so you shake off the shock of whatever that was and continue showering as normal. 

Reid grabbed a variety of clothes from your apartment, not quite sure what you’d want. You freeze for a moment when you realize that he had to sift through your underwear drawer. He’s seen you naked at this point, but that doesn’t ease the awkwardness. You choose a simple sundress with a thin cotton turtleneck underneath, comfortable enough to wear around the house but you can also wear it out if he decides to take you somewhere for breakfast. You braid your hair back since it’s still wet and you don’t like the feeling of it resting on your shoulders. As you emerge from the bathroom, you see Reid curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee in his hands. 

“Your turn,” You offer. Reid peels himself off of the couch, placing his half-empty cup on the side table. His hand brushes against you as he heads into the bathroom, but he refrains from doing or saying anything else. You hear the water turn on, and you think you hear Reid begin to hum a little. 

You head to the kitchen, pulling out a mug to make a cup of coffee for yourself. You sip your drink and look out the window, watching the cars pass on the street below. After a little while, you think you hear Reid moan from the bathroom. You shake off the thought, but you hear it again a moment later. It’s not loud enough to be obvious, just loud enough for you to barely be able to hear it. 

He’s putting on a show. He knows you’re listening for him.

You fight the urge to stand outside the bathroom door and listen. Again, you’ve seen each other naked, but that still feels like pushing your limits. You hear the water shut off a couple minutes later, and you go back to watching the cars drive up and down the street. You hear the bathroom door open, and Reid steps out wearing only a towel around his waist. His hair is still pretty wet, sticking to his forehead in places, and his skin is flushed from the hot water.

You’re going to murder him. 

“Did you have a good shower?” You ask, bringing the mug up to your lips to hide your smile. 

“Yeah, actually, it was really refreshing. Hot showers are great at relieving stress,” He replies, staring you down as he pushes his hair out of his face. It takes all of your strength to not throw yourself at him. He knows you want him, but you’re better than that. You simply nod and hum in agreement before he disappears into his bedroom. As soon as the door shuts, you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

Reid emerges after a few minutes, wearing a sweatshirt and a fitted pair of jeans. Sometimes you forget that you all wear things other than your business clothes when you leave the house. You decide to not hide the fact that you’re checking him out. 

“To be honest, I don’t really have much in the way of food here. We can go out for breakfast, if you want?” He suggests. His voice is devoid of all of the confidence that he had when he came out of the bathroom, and you wonder what happened. 

“Of course! I’m down for anything,” You reply. You place your mug on the side table next to his before following him out of the apartment. He takes you to a small diner up the street. Reid orders pancakes, surprising you a little. You know he likes sweets, but he doesn’t seem like someone who likes a ton of carbs early in the morning. You, on the other hand, can never have enough carbs. You order a waffle with strawberries on top. You only pick at your food, not feeling particularly hungry with the energy that hangs between the two of you.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks, looking between you and your plate. 

“We need to make a drinking game out of that. One shot for every time you ask me if I’m okay. One of us would probably get alcohol poisoning though,” You joke. He laughs with you, but he still looks a little sad and unsure of himself. You reach across the table to grab his hand. “Yes, I am completely okay. It’s just a little hard to eat when I have no idea what’s going on. I promise, I will let you know when I’m not okay. What about you? You’re acting kind of weird.”

“I know I’ve been acting all confident and like I know what I’m doing, but I really don’t. I guess I’m just still pretty nervous about all of this. I don’t want to scare you away,” He admits.

“Spencer, you’re not going to scare me away. You know me. I don’t do anything that I don’t want to.”

That seems to reassure him. He finishes his food and you take another few bites of yours before the two of you get up to pay and leave. You have to remind yourself to breathe as you make your way back to his apartment. Reid rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, and you’re not sure if he’s trying to soothe himself or you. 

When you enter his apartment, Reid walks over to the couch and sits down. You give him a look, glancing between him and the bedroom. He clears his throat before speaking.

“I want to talk about a couple of things first.”


	22. When He Follows Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops... 
> 
> My fingers slipped and things got smutty...

“I want to talk about a couple of things first.”

Your heart sinks hearing those words come from his mouth. You know it can’t be that bad with how your morning has gone so far, but you still don’t feel great. You make your way to the couch and sit next to him.

“Is there anything that you know you like or don’t like?” Reid starts. You’re a little relieved that this is what he wants to talk about, but you still hate discussing intimate details about yourself.

“Like I told you, my body was never the important one. I guess I’ve not experimented enough to know what I do or don’t like,” You reply. You decide that it’s better to be completely honest with him.

“Have you ever used any toys?” He asks. 

How can he possibly sound so casual right now?

“Reid.”

“That’s not an answer,” He says. You can feel his eyes looking you over, but you’re too busy inspecting the paint on the wall. You feel your face burning bright red.

“No. I haven’t.”

“Okay, so we’re really starting from square one. Also, I know you prefer to feel like you’re in control, but that’s not really going to work for this. I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

You simply nod in return. You can’t bring yourself to speak. Even though you act like you own your sexuality, you’re really no better off than a teenager. Wearing short skirts and making dirty jokes became a defense mechanism for you through college. It stings a little for someone to discover that you have no follow-through. 

Reid grabs your arm, guiding you into his lap. You find yourself straddling him yet again. It seems like this is becoming a comfortable position for the two of you. You’re still stuck in your own head when you feel Reid run his hands up your thighs under your dress. You play with the hair on the back of his head, trying to ground yourself. 

Reid pulls you back to reality by placing kisses along your jaw, working his way to your mouth. He nips at your lower lip a little, smirking at you when your hand comes to rest in his hair. He locates the spot under your ear that he found a couple nights ago, kissing it gently before catching it with his teeth. You gasp, bucking your hips involuntarily. 

“That’s my girl,” Reid whispers in your ear. You’re putty in his hands and he knows it. 

“Fuck you, Reid,” You breathe. It’s unfair that he can already read you like a book. You feel him smirk against your skin. He sucks on that spot again, blowing a little cool air over it once he lets go. You take in a deep breath at the feeling, not giving him the gratification of such a big response this time. 

Reid has both of his hands up under your dress, lightly tracing his fingers up and down your thighs. He stops to play with the waistband of your panties before trailing back down your legs. You know he’s going to spend a while teasing you, so you decide to repay the favor. You thread your fingers in his hair again, rolling your hips slowly against him. You can already feel how worked up he is. He lets out a low groan, his hands pausing their work on your legs. It’s a two way street, and you’re not going to let him have all of the fun. Partially because you feel guilty making him do all of the work, but also because the sound of Reid moaning in your ear is one of the most delicious things you’ve ever heard. 

“Uh uh. No more of that. Let me please you,” Reid mumbles against your skin. His words melt away some of the anxiety you feel. He continues tracing patterns on your thighs with his fingertips. You lean down to kiss him on the lips, reveling in the sweet taste. As you lean forward, Reid slides his hands up the backs of your legs and gropes your ass. In most cases you would punch whoever was bold enough to touch you like that. Right now, you never want him to stop. 

Reid’s hands find their way back to the hem of your dress, hiking it up to your hips before pulling it off over your head. The turtleneck you’re wearing underneath quickly follows. You made the wise decision earlier to wear a matching set of underwear. It’s not one of your prettiest sets, but it still makes you feel good. He takes a second to look you over, and you have to avert your eyes at his admiration. 

Reid backs you off of the couch, forcing you to stand. He grips your waist tight and holds up most of your weight, causing you to stand on your tiptoes. His lips never leave your as he walks you backwards to his bedroom. The backs of your knees hit the bed, and you fall back into the pile of blankets from the night before. Reid hovers over you, kissing his way down your neck and chest. His hands snake behind you, unclasping your bra with ease. For the second time this week, you’re left mostly bare on Reid’s bed. 

Spencer wastes no time moving down your body. Just like he did a couple nights ago, he sucks gently on one of your nipples, rolling the other on softly between his fingers. He removes his mouth to shift his attention elsewhere, and you arch your back off the bed to chase the feeling. 

One of Reid’s hands works its way lower down your body, tracing soft circles over your clothed center. You bite back a small moan at the feeling. 

“Hey, don’t hold out on me. It’ll be so much better if you just let yourself feel it,” Reid says, his breath hot against your chest. You decide to ignore how he knows that.

He increases the pressure ever so slightly, and you can’t stop the noise that falls from your lips. His mouth forms a smile against your breast. He continues leaving a trail of kisses down your body, his head finding his way between your legs. You instinctively try to snap them shut, but Reid holds them open. 

“You’ve never done this, have you?” He asks between leaving kisses on your inner thighs. You just shake your head, not wanting to admit your inexperience. He hooks his fingers in your panties, sliding them down your legs before discarding them. You feel his breath ghost over you, and your anxiety starts to build again. 

You feel your mind slipping, taking you back to places you don’t want to go. You prop yourself up on your elbows momentarily, taking in the sight before you. Reid is knelt on the floor in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your hips. He’s still fully dressed, and you’ve messed up his hair. He’s looking back up at you, his eyes full of so much concern. It never ceases to amaze you how much he cares about others. You know he won’t ever do anything to hurt you, and that thought eases your mind enough to relax back down against the bed. 

You thread your fingers through Reid’s hair as he continues to place gentle kisses on your thighs. You’re sure he can feel your anxiety and that’s why he’s moving so slowly. In your last relationship, you were never the recipient. Daniel couldn’t have cared less about you. You were just there for him to get his dick wet. He never fingered you, never went down on you. The combination of anxiety, anticipation, and fear in this moment make you feel like you could burst into flames. 

After taking a few moments to settle, you suddenly feel Reid’s mouth on you. You gasp at the feeling, arching your back off the bed and involuntarily closing your legs. He loops his arms under your legs and uses his hands to pin your hips down. 

Reid’s tongue circles your clit, causing an overwhelming pleasure to shoot through your body. A soft moan escapes your lips before you even have a chance to stop it. He hums against you, and you feel it reverberate up your body. His nails dig into your hips, and you tighten your grip on his hair. 

Spencer slowly removes one of his hands from your hips. He gently presses one finger into you while continuing to trace shapes on your clit with his tongue. As he increases his pace slightly, Reid adds a second finger. You buck your hips as you feel the warmth building low in your belly. 

You resist the urge to kick Reid when he completely pulls away from you. You feel the heat that was building dissipate as he moves back up your body. He captures your lips in a heated kiss, and you taste yourself on him. The thought of that was always kind of gross to you, but it feels nothing short of delightfully sinful when it’s coming from Reid. 

“I could stay down there forever, but I feel like it’d get pretty boring for you,” Reid breathes between kisses to your collarbone. 

“I think you underestimate how good you are,” You reply, relishing the feeling of his lips against your body. He simply laughs in response as he moves to get off of you. Your hand reaches out to grab the front of his sweatshirt and keep him where he is. Reid slides one hand under your back and another under your thigh, adjusting you so your head is resting on the pillows at the top of the bed. He grabs your wrist and you let go of him. 

“This is a bit of a weird question, but can you keep your hands where I put them?” He asks. You look at him quizzically but nod anyways. He grabs your other wrist in his free hand and moves both of your arms above you. There’s a small gap between the top of the mattress and the bottom of the headboard. It’s just big enough for you to fit your hands through, and it gives you something to hold on to. “Also, do you want to be blindfolded, or no?”

Your heart jumps at his question.

“I’m sorry, what?” You question.

“When you deprive the body of one sense, the others typically are more heightened. So, if you can’t see, you’ll be more sensitive to touch. It’s just a suggestion and completely up to you. Besides, your hands are free so you can take it off if you need to.”

“I guess I could try,” You say quietly. Reid shifts so he can grab some items out of his bedside table. You keep your eyes on the ceiling, trying to keep your breathing steady. 

“Are you ready?” Reid asks as he shifts back on top of you.

Your anxiety makes your throat feel tight, but you know he won’t keep going if you don’t give him verbal consent. 

“Yes,” You state. He slides a strip of fabric over your eyes before lightly tying it behind your head. You think it’s one of his ties. 

Reid’s weight disappears again, leaving you cold and exposed. Off to your left, a faint buzzing sound starts up. The bed dips down on your left side, and you feel Reid’s hand brush lightly over your right hip. 

As the buzzing sound gets louder, you feel vibrations rip through your body when an object gently comes into contact with your left breast. You yelp in surprise and jump at the new sensation. Reid’s hand grabs your hip a little tighter to keep you in place.

He’s way too good at this. 

Reid gently moves the vibrator across your upper body, moving between your breasts and across your rib cage. You fight to keep your breathing steady, feeling it hitch every time he passes over your nipples. The warmth that was building in your belly earlier slowly starts to return. 

Spencer works his way down your body again, tracing the vibrator over your skin. He pushes your thighs apart, and you’re entirely exposed. The vibrations disappear from the surface of your skin, but Reid continues to rub circles on your upper thigh with his free hand. 

When the vibrations return, they are much stronger. Reid brushes the vibrator across your folds and up to your clit. Your back arches at the intense sensation, and your grip on the headboard tightens. 

“Fuck,” You breathe out. You hear Reid let out a small laugh. He presses the device against you more firmly, causing your legs to shake involuntarily. “Spence… Jesus- Fuck.”

You can’t manage to get any coherent words out. While you still prefer the feeling of Reid’s mouth on you, this feeling isn’t far behind. The warmth begins to turn to heat, feeling like a rubber band being pulled tight. 

“Don’t think too hard about it. Just let yourself go,” Reid whispers in your ear. You can only respond with a whine. You push your hips up in search of more friction. He seems to get what you’re going for. 

Knowing that you’re beyond the point of wanting him to be gentle, Reid pushes two fingers inside of you. His thrusts are smooth and slow, dragging the burn closer and closer to the front of your mind each time. You can’t help the string of noises falling from your lips in response. Your breathing catches every time he adjusts the vibrator to hit you in a slightly different way. 

Before you know what’s happening, Reid pushes the vibrator against you a little harder, and you’re pushed over the edge. The rubber band snaps and all of your muscles tense. You can feel yourself rhythmically contracting around Reid’s fingers. You hold your breath as the feeling floods your body. Your grip on the headboard is impossibly tight as you ride out the high. 

Reid turns the vibrator off and tosses it somewhere on the bed. He continues slowly thrusting his fingers in and out, teasing out every last drop of your orgasm. You take a deep breath, leaving your hands where they are because you’re just too wiped out to move them. You feel the cool air in the room setting in as the thin layer of sweat begins to evaporate from your skin. You whine loudly when Reid removes his hands.

His weight shifts closer to your upper body, and you feel his hands on your wrists. He detaches you from the bed frame, bending your wrists a little to ease the tension. After settling your arms over your abdomen, he removes the blindfold. You look up at him with heavy eyelids, and he looks back at you with concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, running his fingers through your hair. He yelps when you reach up to smack his arm.

“Of course I’m okay. I just feel like I need a nap. The more important question is if you’re okay?” You reply as you roll onto your side. You reach for the button on his jeans. He rolls onto his stomach so you don’t have access. 

“I told you that this was about you, not me. I’m perfectly fine. I can take care of myself.”

“Can I watch?” You ask, only sort-of joking. 

“In your dreams.”


	23. When it Comes Out

You spend the rest of the day at Reid’s apartment. The two of you cuddle on the couch while reading your respective books. You decide that it’s time to head home, thanking him for letting you crash at his apartment for so long. 

After arriving back at your apartment, you’re unpacking your bag when you realize you left some things at Reid’s place. You’re missing the bra you wore this morning as well as most of your bathroom supplies.You text Reid to let him know, hoping that he can sneak them into a drawer in your desk on Monday. 

You’re exhausted from the past couple of days, so you quickly fall asleep in your own bed. 

\--- 

When you arrive at work on Monday, you’re surprised that Reid isn’t there. He usually leaves a coffee on your desk every Monday morning. Everyone else is already at the office chipping away at their own reports. 

“Hey, Em, have you heard from Reid at all?” You ask as you set your belongings down. You check your phone. He read your text from Saturday night, but he never responded. 

“No, I haven’t seen him since Friday. How are you feeling, by the way? He said you had a migraine,” She replies, barely looking away from her computer screen. You shoot Reid another text, checking to make sure he’s feeling okay.

“Yeah, I’m feeling fine. It took most of the day, but it was pretty much gone by Friday night,” You answer as you settle in at your computer. You pull up your email to see if there’s anything from him there.

Nothing. 

You shake off the weird feeling you have and continue to work on the case you started last Thursday. By the time lunch rolls around there’s still no sign of Reid. He hasn’t read the text you sent this morning. You have a hard time focusing on the task at hand, only writing a couple sentences an hour. You’re never going to finish this profile at this rate.

“Agent [y/l/n], can I see you in my office please?” Hotch calls from his doorway. You drop what you’re doing and make your way over to him. He gestures for you to take a seat, and you do so.

“Is there something I can do for you, Hotch?” You ask as you sit. He looks more tense than usual, and that’s saying something.

“Have you heard from Reid today?” He asks in return. You bite the inside of your cheek and begin picking at your fingernails. Reid would never miss work without letting Hotch and Rossi know. 

“No. I sent him a text when I got here this morning, but I haven’t heard anything back. Has he said anything to you?”

“He hasn’t, which is completely unlike him. He always lets me know if he’s going to be so much as five minutes late. I was concerned when he wasn’t on time this morning, so I had Garcia check his phone records,” Hotch says, looking you dead in the eye. You know exactly where this is going.

“I’m the last person to have contact with him, aren’t I?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yes. Your text from Saturday night was the last activity noted on his phone.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing yourself to hold it together.

“I thought for a moment that there was an emergency regarding his mother, but he hasn’t had any contact with her care facility since Friday. I’m going to ask you this once, and it’s not because I think you have any involvement with what might be going on, but do you have any idea where he is?”

“No, Sir. The last time I saw him was when I left his apartment on Saturday evening,” You reply. Hotch raises his eyebrows at your honesty. You know it was going to come out sooner or later, and you’d rather it be on your terms.

“Is there something I should know about, Agent?”

“Possibly. I spent some time with Reid over the weekend. We may or may not have a romantic relationship. Quite frankly, he and I haven’t discussed the specific details yet. I’m aware that it is frowned upon, and I understand there may be complications due to our actions. I can assure you that, at least on my part, our relationship won’t have any effect on the functionality of this team. You don’t need to worry about me. And if I had to place bets, you won’t have to worry about him either,” You explain. You try to hit all of the buzzwords that you know Hotch looks for. There’s nothing he cares about more than his team being functional, and you think you’ve proven yourself to him, at least for now. 

“I understand, Agent. Thank you for being so honest with me. Are you willing to go with Prentiss and Morgan to his apartment? If he’s just home sick, then there’s no reason to worry. If he’s gone, you’ll probably be our best set of eyes.”

You nod, standing to leave his office. Your heart races in your chest at the thought of something happening to Reid. You just talked to him 36 hours ago. You’re not ready for whatever you have to be over yet. 

Hotch follows you back to your desk, grabbing Emily and Derek’s attention on the way.

“You three are going to head to Reid’s apartment. You have my full permission to use force to enter if necessary. I’ll personally pay for a new door if I have to,” Hotch states, looking pointedly at Morgan. 

The three of you head off and pile into an SUV. You sit in the back by yourself, looking out the window on the drive. You try to keep yourself from panicking too much. He could just be really sick. 

“You okay back there?” Emily asks. You meet her eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Yeah. I just talked to him a couple days ago. He seemed fine. This is just so unlike him,” You respond. You try and keep your voice even. You’re not ready for anybody else to know the details of your relationship yet. You can’t handle the teasing, especially not right now. Emily just nods at your answer, not pushing you any further. 

For all the team knows, Reid is your best friend. You two are nearly inseparable wherever you go. You spend most of your days picking on each other, acting more like siblings than partners. Emily is the only one with any idea that something may be going on, and that conversation happened months ago. 

When the three of you arrive, you take point heading into the building. It’s pretty quiet during the middle of the day. Turning the corner, you see that his door is shut. You knock twice, sharp and loud, so he knows it’s you. A minute passes. You know he’s not inside.

You take a deep breath before turning to Morgan, giving him a little nod. You pull your gun from its holster, pointing it at the door just in case there’s someone unexpected waiting on the other side. Derek nods back at you before kicking it in. 

As you all enter, the apartment is quiet. You clear it together, room by room, but there’s nobody there. You get a little nauseous when you notice that everything is exactly as it was on Saturday night. Nothing’s been moved since you left. The blankets on the bed are in the exact same position. You head back to the living room, unable to look at his bed any longer. 

“Looks like our boy was getting some action,” Morgan comments. You look through the doorway and can see your bra on the floor. You turn back so he can’t see your face. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and Emily appears in your periphery. You don’t look over at her. Instead, you spend all of your energy to keep tears from falling down your face. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s yours. I was with you when you bought it,” She says quietly enough so Morgan can’t hear. 

“Emily. I can’t do this right now. You’re not wrong, but I can’t talk about this. If I start crying, I’m not going to stop. I need to be able to do my job,” You reply calmly. You place your hand over hers and take a deep breath.

“Okay. Then do your job. Walk me through this apartment and tell me what you see. Pretend it isn’t Reid.”

You walk to the front door and turn around so you can see most of the apartment.

“No matter what happened in here, there wasn’t a struggle getting the victim out. The front door was locked, so either the unsub got the key or the victim locked it himself,” You swallow hard before moving to the living room. “All of the windows are shut, and we’re on the third floor anyways. They didn’t get out that way.”

All of the furniture looks exactly the same as when you left. His book is still on the side table with a half-full glass of water next to it. The blanket you two shared is draped over the back of the couch. 

“Nothing happened here. The rug is completely flat, no wrinkles. No sign of a struggle.”

Emily follows as you move to the kitchen. Your glass is in the sink. You notice that there’s a knife missing out of the block on the counter. 

“Again, there’s no sign of a struggle. There is a knife missing, so the unsub may have grabbed it as an improvised weapon,” You continue. As much as you are trying to assess this clinically, your throat tightens at every negative thought. 

“You’re sure that knife was there last time you saw it?” Prentiss questions, still keeping her voice down. You nod. “That doesn’t make very much sense. There is no sign of a struggle anywhere in this apartment. Reid wouldn’t just let someone in unless he felt threatened. They would have already had a weapon. There’s no reason to take one once the unsub is already inside.”

“Unless Reid let them in because he knew them,” Morgan says, leaning against the kitchen wall. 

“I don’t disagree with you on that, but who would Reid feel comfortable enough with to let in here that isn’t one of us?” You ask. The other two hum in agreement at your question. You continue to look around for any clues. 

You jump when your phone starts ringing. 

“You need to get back here. The crime scene unit is on their way to the apartment now. Morgan should stay and wait for them, but you need to have Prentiss drive you back. There’s an email,” Hotch says shortly. You don’t say anything before hanging up the phone and running to find the others. You relay the information Hotch gave you, and Emily grabs your hand. 

The two of you make your way back to the SUV. You don’t even have the door shut before tears start rolling down your cheeks. 

This can’t be real. He’s too smart. He wouldn’t let someone take him. 

You wipe away your tears before heading back into the office. Hotch meets you at the elevator, and the three of you walk straight to Garcia’s office. JJ and Rossi are already waiting. Emily doesn’t let go of your hand. 

There’s only a single website link in the email.

“How do you guys know this has anything to do with Reid?” You ask. You know they have a reason, but you need to let your denial last a little longer.

“I’ve already looked at it. You’re not going to like what you see, so you’re free to leave at any time,” Hotch tells you. His eyes have a softness to them.

Garcia clicks on the link, and a video player pops up on the screen. In the center of the video, you see Reid strapped down to a chair. He’s wearing the same sweatshirt and jeans he wore on Saturday. You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to break skin. You taste blood, but you continue to bite down. 

There’s a little red dot in the upper left corner of the screen, likely indicating a live feed.

“So, whoever has him wants to hurt one of us. There’s no other reason to send us this,” JJ says what everyone's thinking. 

Reid appears to be conscious. He’s got his head back and is staring at the ceiling, but he’s tapping his foot. A voice comes over the speaker, causing you all to jump. 

“It looks like we’ve actually got their attention this time. I thought when they opened and closed the video so quickly earlier, they didn’t care about you,” A male voice says. You rack your brain trying to place the voice, but it sounds distorted. Reid doesn’t respond.

A large figure wearing black clothing appears on the left side of the screen. You all lean closer to the monitors, trying to make out as much detail as possible.

“Do you think she knows this is her fault? If she had just an ounce of self-control, you wouldn’t be here,” The unsub stops next to the chair and crouches in front of Reid. He places a hand on Reid’s thigh, far too high for your liking. Reid finally lifts his head. He looks down at the unsub with utter disinterest. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re going to have to be a bit more specific. Half of the team are women,” Reid shoots back. You hear a slight shake in his voice. He’s absolutely putting on an act. 

“You’re a smart guy, Dr. Reid. You know exactly who I’m talking about. I’m sure she does too,” The unsub uses extra emphasis when he uses Reid’s title. Nausea starts bubbling up in your stomach. 

It can’t be. 

The unsub removes his hand from Reid’s thigh and reaches into his own pocket. When it comes back out, he’s holding a small sliver object. It almost looks like a pen. You all lean even closer to the monitors. You’re so close your nose is almost touching the screen. 

It suddenly clicks for you, and you have a split second to find a hold on Garcia’s desk before your legs give out under you. The team turns to look at you with their eyes wide. Emily holds you up as you try to regain your footing. All of the softness is gone from Hotch’s face. He makes the same conclusion as soon as he sees your reaction. 

“Daniel has him. It’s the ex I punched in New York a while back. It has to be.”

Hotch nods curtly, signalling for Garcia to turn off the feed. If Daniel knows you all aren’t watching, he may not hurt Reid. 

“Everybody to the roundtable. We have a profile to put together.”


	24. When You Choose

You don’t feel your body move, but somehow you end up at the roundtable with everyone else. You’re too preoccupied kicking yourself for punching Daniel. If you just had some impulse control, Reid wouldn’t have been kidnapped. 

Again. 

“Agent [y/l/n], snap out of it. I know this is personal, but you’re also the one with the most knowledge about the unsub. We need you to do your job. Can you do that?” Hotch grills you. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. 

“Daniel is a classic narcissist. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He was a medical resident in New York City specializing in surgery. That’s why the scalpel tipped me off. I don’t know why he’d be here though. He was still in the city when we were there a couple months ago. Me leaving probably wasn’t the stressor, since that was a little over six months ago. This feels like a very personal attack. He’s trying to take away the last thing he knows is special to me. I don’t think he’s ever killed before. I wouldn’t put it past him to hurt Reid, though, if it meant hurting me,” You explain, not meeting anybody’s eyes. 

This is a hard enough situation to be in. The fact that it’s your fault makes it infinitely worse. 

“So, he has no connection to this area. No comfort zone. A geographical profile is useless here,” Rossi concludes. 

You take the picture of Daniel that Garcia printed off and hang it on the board, stabbing the pushpin directly into his forehead. 

“I bet he lost his job. He was a borderline alcoholic when we were together. I doubt it got better when I left. He probably lost his spot in residency and blames it on me,” You say, continuing to hang your evidence on the board. 

“How do we figure out where he has Reid? Building a whole profile feels a little useless at this point,” JJ says as she pinches the bridge of her nose. She hasn’t looked at you since you entered the room. You don’t think she’s mad at you, but she’s worried for Reid. 

“I’ve been trying to trace the video feed, but he has it pretty well encrypted. I’ll keep working on it, but it might not go anywhere,” Garcia explains while she types away at the laptop she brought with her. 

Morgan enters as Garcia finishes talking. He marches straight towards you. 

“You’re telling me this is your fault? My boy is going to be tortured again because of you?” Morgan gets up in your face. It takes all of your strength not to hit him. 

“Yes. It’s my fault that my narcissistic ex-boyfriend made the choice to abduct Spencer. Blame me all you want, but it’s not going to change the situation,” You bite back, puffing out your chest to make yourself appear larger. 

“Stand down, both of you. Nobody is at fault except the unsub. We all need to stay focused here,” Hotch warns. Morgan takes a step back, still staring you down. 

“Your ability to throw any and all trust we’ve built out the window so quickly is concerning, Morgan. It’s a wonder neither of us have gotten each other killed yet,” You jab. You know you’re being childish, but his lack of trust is his biggest flaw. It hurts that he’s willing to blame you so quickly. You agree with him that this is your fault, but he doesn’t need to say it out loud. He doesn’t respond as he takes his seat at the table.

You leave the room, needing to take a quick walk to cool down and think. As you pass through the glass doors of the office, you see Hotch’s reflection right behind you. You don’t try to hide the makeup and tears running down your face when you face him. 

“I know it’s my fault. None of us would be in this situation if I had just kept my hands to myself. I hate that I have no idea what we’re going to do,” You choke out through hiccuping sobs. Hotch pulls you into his chest, showing more emotion than you’ve ever seen from him. It surprises you enough that your tears stop for the moment. 

“We’ve already established that you’re not the trigger. He probably lost his job, and you are the target that means the most to him. He’s used to hurting you. It’s familiar to him,” You feel his arms tighten around you as he continues talking. “This is not your fault, but I think we can use you to lure him out. Like you said, he’s a classic narcissist. He can’t stand being challenged.” 

Hotch holds you for a moment longer, giving you some time to calm down. Both of you return to the bullpen to deliver the plan. 

“We’ll hold a press conference. We won’t give specifics, since we’re not actually trying to warn the public. [Y/n] will be speaking instead of JJ. We want to taunt him and draw him out, just like we would with any other unsub. It doesn’t matter what she says so much as she’s the one on air. Does anybody have any questions?” Hotch finishes. Everyone remains silent. He releases you all to get ready for the press conference. 

You make your way to the bathroom to fix your makeup. Just as you begin to clean your face up, Garcia bursts through the door. 

“What’s going on with you and Reid?” Penelope asks bluntly. 

“He’s my best friend and my abusive ex-boyfriend has him hostage. I feel like my current emotions are valid,” You explain, trying your hardest to gloss over the subject. She’s clearly not buying it.

“You said that Daniel is going after the last thing that he knows is special to you. As much as I know you love us, I don’t think you were referring to the team as a whole.”

You think back to the short speech you gave to the team. Nobody else seemed to pick up on your choice of words. Or, at least, nobody said anything.

“I don’t know what’s going on between Reid and I. I had a bad night the other night, so I went to his apartment. I stayed there until Saturday. I’m the last one that saw him in person before he went missing. I can’t help but feel a little guilty about it,” You say as you continue to fix your eyeliner. 

“Why don’t you want to admit you’re in love with him?”

You hold your breath, feeling your heart drop at her question. 

“Penny, I just fixed my makeup. I really can’t cry about this right now,” You reply. You watch her in the mirror as she begins fixing your hair. 

“Well you didn’t immediately get defensive and deny what I asked, so I’m going to assume that’s a thing. We can talk about that later. For now, let’s finish getting you dolled up so we can get your boy back.”

You smile at her in the mirror. She smiles back at you, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. You know this is harder on her than almost anyone else. The two of you alone have more feelings than the rest of the team combined. It’s almost dangerous to have you in a room together. 

There is already a camera crew set up by the time you exit the bathroom. Hotch places you on your mark, briefing you on what you should say. It all goes smoothly. You explain that you’re looking for a missing FBI agent, and that there’s no reason for the public to be alarmed. You put extra emphasis on the fact that you’re looking for a failed medical resident who lacks the skills to succeed at his job. You give the number for the anonymous tip line before signing off. After the cameras cut, you take a seat on the floor by your desk, utterly emotionally exhausted. 

It takes less than five minutes for the phone to ring. 

Hotch doesn’t let you answer, knowing that whatever is said will probably be too much for you to handle. He keeps Daniel talking long enough for Garcia to track where he’s calling from. You already have your vest on before Hotch hangs up the phone. The team is out the door less than a minute after the call ends. 

You end up in Hotch’s SUV. He’s silent on the drive over which makes your anxiety significantly worse. As you pull up to the warehouse, you clear your throat.

“I don’t think I can go in there, Hotch. You asked if I could do my job, and I think this is where my ability to do that ends. If I walk in there and see Daniel, I’m going to shoot him in the head. I will not hesitate to put a bullet right between his eyes, even if he’s unarmed,” You admit, staring straight through the windshield. 

“I understand where you’re coming from. I’ve been there. I won’t judge you for making that call. But I do think it’s a bad decision to leave you out here. You’re an invaluable bartering piece right now,” Hotch responds. You can feel him looking over at you. 

“Do you really think you can’t do this without me?”

“I think Spencer will be safer if you’re there.”

“Fine. I’ll go. But I want to hang back. When we find them, I can’t be in the room. Call me in if you need me, but I will take the shot the second I’m given the chance.”

“Understood. Let’s go.”

The two of you jump out of the SUV, unholstering your guns. There are a couple of SWAT guys accompanying you into the building. The team fans out once you enter the building, but you stay behind Hotch and Rossi. You trust them the most to not let you see something you shouldn’t. 

You hear the team clearing various rooms and hallways over your earpiece. For the most part the warehouse is completely empty. Just as your heart starts to sink, fearing you’re in the wrong place, Hotch’s hand hits you square in the chest. You stop where you are, not following him through the doorway. You can’t hear what Hotch is saying over the ringing in your ears. You can faintly see the outline of a man standing in the middle of the room. You know by how he’s holding himself that it’s Daniel. 

You aren’t listening to Hotch’s words, but you hear an aggressive shift in his tone of voice. You decide you’re done letting Daniel win, and you enter the room. Stepping off to Hotch’s side, you aim your gun at the head of the shadowy figure. You think you hear the voice taunting you, but it’s drowned out by Reid groaning in the chair next to him. You don’t dare look over at him. 

Before you get the chance to take your shot, another rings out and Daniel collapses to the ground. You follow the source of the sound and see Morgan and Prentiss standing in a doorway on the left side of the room. Morgan still has his gun trained on Daniel, but he’s staring you down. You hear Hotch calling for medics before your brain shuts off. 

You feel your feet moving without your consent, carrying you to where Morgan is standing. You holster your gun and crack your knuckles. 

“What the actual fuck was that, Morgan? What gives you the right-” You scream as you get closer. Just as you go to launch yourself at him, several sets of hands wrap around your waist and arms, holding you back. You continue screaming incoherent expletives at him, fighting against the grips of Hotch, Rossi, and JJ. Morgan just stands and stares at you. 

Your throat feels raw from all of the screaming. You eventually stop fighting. Everyone lets you go as you sink to the ground, and sobs begin to take the place of your screams. Morgan walks away without saying anything, but Emily and JJ stay by your side. You see Hotch and Rossi follow the stretcher that’s carried out of the room. 

Eventually Emily and JJ pull you to your feet and escort you back out of the warehouse. They lead you to the last empty SUV, loading you in the back seat. JJ stays with you while Emily adjusts the driver’s seat.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Emily asks as she buckles her seatbelt. You don’t answer her as you look at the cars around you. The coroner’s van is still there, but the ambulances are all gone. 

“Do we need to go to the hospital?” JJ’s voice is soft, and you feel her hand on your shoulder. 

“How bad is he?”

You turn to face JJ. She’s got her neutral face on, not giving away anything she doesn’t want to. You know Reid can’t be close to death if nobody else is panicking. 

“He’s definitely not great. He was conscious in the room, which is a good sign.” Emily replies as she pulls out of the warehouse parking lot. She begins driving in the direction of the hospital. You assume she’s talked to Hotch about where Reid is being taken. 

JJ helps you remove your vest in the back seat. You tie your hair up into a bun, trying to pull yourself together as much as you can before you get to the hospital. 

Emily and JJ walk on either side of you as you enter the ER waiting room. The triage nurse is hesitant to give you any information until you all flash your badges. She tells you that you need to wait until he’s done being evaluated but it shouldn’t take long. 

The three of you sit together. Emily disappears for a moment before coming back with an arm full of bottled waters from the vending machine. Your throat burns as you drink, but you know you need the hydration. 

Hotch and Rossi arrive about an hour later. They probably stayed behind to finish the legal side of things with the coroner. They sit across from you, both with looks of pity on their faces. 

Morgan arrives shortly after. It takes everything in your body not to tear into him again. He won’t look at you as he sits down next to Rossi. You feel Emily’s hand on your arm squeeze as a little warning. 

You think you should still be crying, but no more tears will come. 

The six of you wait together, sitting silently as a fractured team.


	25. When You Falter

It’s almost midnight by the time the doctor comes to talk to you. She approaches Hotch first.

“Your agent is stable. He’ll absolutely be able to make a full recovery. We’ve got him stitched up, and all of his scans for internal injuries came back clear. He’ll need a few weeks to heal, but he’s doing completely fine,” The doctor explains. The entire team lets out a sigh of relief. You feel the tears start to fall again. “Is Agent [y/l/n] here? He’s been asking for them specifically.”

Your throat feels tight again as everyone turns their attention to you. 

“Yeah, that’s me. Is he okay to see visitors right now?” You ask as you approach the doctor.

“Only one at a time, but yes. We’re working on his discharge paperwork right now. Since he’s stable, there’s no reason to admit him. You can sit with him while everything is processed, if you’d like. He’s been very insistent on seeing you,” She smiles as she walks back towards the door she entered through. You look around at your team, feeling guilty that you’re the one he asked for. They all nod and encourage you to go, so you follow her. 

You feel your heart break a little as you think about what you need to do. 

If you thought your heart sank at the news of Reid’s injuries, it absolutely falls through the floor when you actually see him. He’s extremely pale, and his hair is slicked back from his face with sweat. He’s got a nasal cannula in, which makes him look sicker than he is. They’ve got his shirt off so you can see all of the wounds across his abdomen. They’re fairly small, only needing two or three stitches apiece, but there are so many of them. You notice a couple more wounds on his arms that are longer. They each have at least ten stitches. You swallow hard as you approach the foot of the bed. You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off.

“It’s not your fault. I made the choice to go with him. I could have fought, but I didn’t. This didn’t happen because of you,” Reid starts. His voice is stronger than you expected it to be.

“Reid,” Your voice cracks already. Your throat is still sore from screaming at Morgan. You clear your throat before continuing. “My ex-boyfriend did this to you to hurt me. If you didn’t know me, this wouldn’t have happened to you. This is completely my fault, no matter how you look at it.”

“Well I don’t fault you for it. Besides, it looks worse than it feels,” Reid smiles up at you. You have to look away from him. Even if he doesn’t blame you, it doesn’t change the truth. 

“He knew where you live. Because of me, your safe space is no longer safe. You can deny it all you want, but it’s true. I put you in danger,” You continue as tears stream down your face. Reid sits up in his bed, wincing at the pain, but you take a step back. “When I realized what was happening, and who was doing this to you, I felt like I wanted to die. I wished more than anything that I could switch places with you. I knew that bad things follow me wherever I go, and I chose to put you in the path of destruction anyways. I am so sorry for what happened. I won’t let it happen again.”

You back your way towards the door slowly. Reid doesn’t try to fight you. You see tears falling from his eyes as well, but there is nothing he can say to make you stay. You turn on your heels and walk briskly back to the waiting room. Everyone looks bewildered at your presence. You simply hold your hand out to Emily.

“Keys, please.” 

She digs through her pocket before handing them over. She looks stunned, but you take the keys and walk towards the exit. None of them move to follow you. You take the SUV back to the BAU before trading it for your own car. 

When you arrive at your apartment, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You start by taking a shower, washing off all of the sweat and grime of the day. You force yourself to eat something before dragging yourself to bed. You hear your phone chiming from your bag, but you don’t have the emotional energy to check it. 

You don’t sleep well. You’re too busy tossing and turning, thinking about the damage you’ve caused. When you pull yourself out of bed around 10:00 AM, you sit down at your computer. You draft an email to Hotch asking if you can work from home for a couple weeks. You don’t think you can face the team after what happened. You send the email before even taking the time to proofread. 

Hotch emails back impressively fast.

‘Agent [y/l/n],

I’ve considered your request, and I don’t think it’s a bad idea for you to work from home for the next two weeks. Stop by my office this afternoon and I can provide some cases for you to work on independently. 

However, I don’t want this to affect the team permanently. What happened is unfortunate, but it’s a part of the job. I understand that you’re upset with Morgan, but I cannot allow this to tear our team apart. Upon your arrival back at the office, everyone is going to be required to recertify their hand-to-hand combat training. I’ve paired you with Morgan. I’m hoping that you two can settle your disputes that way. If not, we’ll have to pursue disciplinary action for the both of you. 

Let me know if you have any further questions.

Best,

SSA Aaron Hotchner  
Unit Chief  
Federal Bureau of Investigation, Behavioral Analysis Unit’

You reply with a simple acknowledgment. Of course he would pair you with Morgan. At least you two will have the chance to beat the living daylights out of each other. That may honestly be the best medicine for both of you.

You throw on some leggings and a sweater before packing your things to swing by the office. You tie your hair back up in a fresh bun. Your face is still puffy from all of the crying yesterday, and you’re sure your voice is completely shot. 

Everyone watches you walk into Hotch’s office. He hands you a stack of files to work through over the next couple of weeks. You exchange some basic pleasantries, and you’re glad he doesn’t try to pry about anything. You see a coffee waiting on your desk when you make your way towards the exit. As you pass back through the glass doors of the BAU office, a familiar lanky figure meets you by the elevator. 

“What are you doing?” Reid asks, leaning against the wall so you can’t hit the elevator buttons. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” You say. Your voice is soft and very scratchy, and it feels like you’re swallowing knives every time you speak.

“You know I’ve sold my soul to this place. I’m more useful here than I am at home. I know the same goes for you,” He tries to joke, eyeing the files in your arms. 

“At the moment, I’ll be more helpful from home. Between you and Morgan, I’m not going to be able to focus here. Hotch agrees, so he’s letting me take some files to work on independently,” You explain. You begin tapping your foot with the hope of making your impatience known. 

“I understand Morgan, but why am I a problem? I already told you that I don’t blame you at all. There are no hard feelings here,” You hear his voice falter a little. You tighten the grip on your files while debating whether he’d be able to follow you if you make a break for the stairs. 

“You may not blame me, but I do. No amount of arguing is going to change that. If Hotch wasn’t going to let me work from home, then I was going to hand him my transfer request. So if you’ll please excuse me.”

You turn and make your way to the stairs. You don’t look back over your shoulder to see if he’s moved, because you know he hasn’t. You can’t bear to look at his sad face again. 

You make your way back to your apartment, setting up a little office at your kitchen table. 

The team quickly learns that you’re ignoring your phone, so they resort to bombarding you with emails. Rossi sends you various pasta recipes along with a list of wines that would be appropriate pairings. Penelope sends you pictures of baby animals interspersed with requests for you to come back. JJ emails updates about what’s going on with everyone in the office, as well as potential cases the team might get called out on. You have a conversation with Hotch about staying behind if the team gets called out. You’ll go into the office to help Garcia if it comes down to it. Emily sends multiple invites to come out to brunch or dinner or drinks, but you shoot her down each time. 

You don’t hear anything from Morgan or Reid. 

You successfully make it to the end of the week. You’ve completed several profiles, sending them to their respective law enforcement agencies. You spend the majority of your Friday night looking at websites for various animal shelters, seriously debating adopting a cat. Emily says it helped her a lot. 

It is physically painful for you to not reach out to Reid. He’s made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t blame you, but it doesn’t change the fact that what happened to him is your fault. 

You mope around your apartment for the weekend, drinking far too much of the wine that Rossi recommended on Saturday night. Your phone goes off on Sunday evening with a phone call from JJ. The team is headed out on a case and Hotch wants you in the office. 

You don another pair of leggings and a sweater before braiding your hair and heading to the BAU office. You beeline straight for Garcia’s office. Since the team is out of town, there’s almost no reason for you to need to leave her safe space. She’s already got two cups of coffee waiting when you arrive. 

You settle in next to her, going through case details and working on your own profile while you wait for the team to call. 

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Garcia asks without taking her eyes off of her screen. Her long nails continue clicking away at her keyboard while you debate whether or not you want to avoid her question.

“Did Emily put you up to this?” You ask in return. Her typing stops.

“No. You’re my friend, and I want to know that my friend is okay. You went through a trauma that was the result of years of other trauma. That kind of stuff is what makes serial killers,” She explains as she turns to face you.

“So you read my file?” You let a smile creep on to your face to show her that you’re not mad. The two of you have never talked about your past. The only people that know are Reid and Hotch. 

“I may know some of the details. I knew it had to be a big deal for you to flip out so hard when you saw the video. That’s not a normal reaction, and for the most part you seem like a normal human. You’ve been acting really sketchy since then, and I want to make sure we’re not going to have to profile you,” She pleads. You see tears forming in her eyes. 

“You won’t have to profile me. I’m not planning on murdering anyone anytime soon,” You laugh. Since they’re best friends, you decide to leave out the fact that you still want to punch Morgan in the face. “I’m struggling, but it’s not a big deal. I know that you think you know what’s going on between Reid and I, but honestly I don’t even really know. After seeing him in the hospital with all of those stitches that are because of me, I couldn’t handle it. If he never knew me, that wouldn’t have happened. He can say it’s not my fault all he wants, but it is. So, I made the executive decision to break off whatever it is that we had. I can’t hurt him again if he’s not that involved in my life,” Your voice cracks as you finish. You blink hard to try and rid the forming tears from your eyes. Penelope opens her mouth to respond, but she’s cut off by a knock on the door.

Reid pokes his head in the room.

“Hey, the team landed and they want to talk through some stuff. Can you guys come to the conference room?” His voice is quiet, and he won’t look in your direction. 

The three of you head to the roundtable. You and Penelope set up your laptops to continue your work while the team begins hammering out the profile over speakerphone. Reid stays up at the front, writing out all of his findings on the whiteboard.

You can’t stop yourself from watching him. As much as you want to run in the other direction, you’ve always found yourself being drawn to him. Whether it’s his impossible brilliance or the way that he speaks, he’s got you hooked. You try to ignore him while you continue adding to the profile. You don’t chime in much, otherwise you’d give away the anger that’s started bubbling under the surface. 

Hotch knew Reid would be here. He knew he wouldn’t be cleared to fly or go in the field yet. And he called you in anyways.


	26. When You Fight Back

The case takes less than 48 hours to solve, so you’re back in your apartment for your final week of working from home. 

On Sunday, your final day before returning to the office, there’s a knock on your door. They knock twice, sharp and loud, and you know exactly who it is. You can’t ignore him forever, and it’s probably best to get this over with now rather than waiting until you’re back in the office. 

As soon as you open the door, Reid brushes past you and enters your apartment. 

“Well hello to you too,” You say sarcastically as you close and lock the door. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Reid bites back. He turns to look at you, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so angry. 

“Okay, we really need to work on asking more pointed questions because-” You start to reply.

“Stop hiding behind humor as a defense mechanism and answer the damn question,” Reid says as he takes a few steps towards you. You instinctively take a few steps back. You’re really trying to not match his energy level, but he’s making it difficult. 

“You got hurt because of me, so I made the choice to stop that from happening again,” You state. You see Reid clench and unclench his fists, and the sight causes anxiety to begin to solidify in your chest. 

“That wasn’t a choice for you to make on your own. You’re not the only one emotionally involved here. I know you didn’t have any say in anything with your last relationship, but that doesn’t give you the right to do that to me,” Reid continues to approach you with his voice dipping dangerously low. You continue backing away from him, but your back hits the wall. You begin to pick at your fingernails to try to release some of your anxious energy. You know he’d never hurt you, but your body is acting on instinct.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m just trying to keep you safe and stop it from happening ever again,” You say quietly. You try and keep your voice steady and calm. He keeps stalking towards you, and you have nowhere left to go.

“Well maybe if you thought about anyone other than yourself for a single second, you’d realize that you leaving will hurt me more than anything he could have done. This is a two-way street. What you’re doing is so incredibly stupid and selfish, I’m having a hard time trying to figure out which one of your personalities is actually real,” Reid raises his voice as he steps into your bubble.

Instinctively, you squeeze your eyes tight and turn your head. You hold your breath and tense all of your muscles, bracing for impact. 

The impact never comes.

You still feel Reid’s presence right in front of you, but you can’t bring yourself to look back at him. He won’t hurt you. At this point, you continue to hold your position out of embarrassment. You feel tears leaving hot trails down your face. 

“You said he never hit you,” Reid says, his voice instantly softening. There’s still tension in the space between you, but the heat seems to dissipate. 

“Clearly whatever personality you talked to that night was a liar,” You snap. You still can’t look at him. There’s a little part of your brain that tells you he’s faking it and he’ll take his chance as soon as you turn your head. Your body starts to shake from being completely tensed up for so long. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I didn’t intend to raise my voice at you. I’m still really mad, but I didn’t mean it,” Reid begins apologizing. You flinch a little when one of his hands touches your arm, and you let out a little involuntary squeak. His touch disappears, and you hear him back up a couple of steps. You let out the breath you were holding and allow your muscles to relax. “Why wouldn’t you tell me he hit you?”

“It’s not exactly information I like to give out,” You say. “It makes me look weak. It makes me look like I can’t handle myself. Like I’m an idiot who can’t see the red flags.”

When you meet Reid’s eyes, he’s looking at you with absolute pity. The heavy weight of anxiety still sits in your chest, making you feel like you need to vomit. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Reid whispers. Maybe that should be your new drinking game.

“Reid, I went to therapy twice a week for the few months before I joined the BAU. I came to terms with what happened to me. It’s not my fault, I know that. But it doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m ashamed that I let it happen. It doesn’t make me feel any less weak or stupid. I’m an FBI agent that couldn’t defend herself. For six years, I chose not to leave. Him hitting me wasn’t my fault, but I could have left earlier. I just didn’t.”  
“First of all, I think you need to find a better therapist-”

“Reid,” You warn.

“You were afraid to leave. With what he said about you when he had me, I’m not surprised. He was a narcissistic psychopath. You couldn’t have done anything differently,” Reid sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself of those facts. 

“This isn’t what you came here to talk about,” You say in hopes of changing the subject.

“No, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be talking about it,” He replies. You want to start hitting your head against the wall. No matter how the conversation goes, you’re not going to like it. 

“Reid, I really don’t want to tell you the details. It’s going to trigger me and make you upset, so it’s not worth it. Let’s just go back to yelling at each other about how I’m selfish,” You plead. 

“I’m not going to yell at you again. I only came here to try and see if I can fix things. I don’t want to lose you.”

“When we were outside of the warehouse getting ready, I told Hotch that I didn’t want to come in. I told him it was because I was going to put a bullet between Daniel’s eyes the second I saw him, which was mostly true. But it was also because I didn’t know what I’d do if you were really hurt. I don’t know what this is, or what you want us to be, but I wasn’t ready to have that taken away from me. So I ended it on my own terms before the universe took it away just like everything else,” You explain. 

“I’m not hurt. A little scratched up, maybe, but I’m okay. You’re not going to lose me. I wish you would have told me what you were feeling so I could try to help. I’m not going to leave you, and I don’t want to live without you in my life somehow.”

You close your eyes again and take a deep breath. You hate that he has such a good heart.

“Emily and Garcia sort of know what we have going on. Emily saw my bra in your apartment and Garcia cornered me in the bathroom. I told Hotch, but only because he asked. If we are really going to make this a thing, then we should probably actually tell people instead of sneaking around in the dark,” You mumble. A small smile appears on Reid’s face.

“Rossi knows. I didn’t tell him, but he knows all. And I’m sure Morgan at least has his suspicions. I don’t think anybody would be surprised if we said something to them.”

“I can’t be the one to tell Morgan. I’m not sure if he and I will ever be on casual speaking terms again,” You start, but you’re interrupted by your phone chiming in your pocket. When you check, it’s a reminder that your training starts tomorrow morning. “Speak of the devil. I’ve got training tomorrow morning. Are they making you recertify too?”

“I was never certified in the first place, and nobody else has said anything. I think it might just be you and Morgan.”

You’re going to kill Hotch.

\--- 

You stalk into the office gym at exactly 6:30 AM, just like you were told. You see Morgan stretching on the mats, and you make your way over to him. 

“What exactly are we supposed to be doing here?” You ask as you drop your bag. You kick off your shoes and join Morgan on the mat, beginning your own stretching routine. 

“I figured we’ll start with a little bit of boxing as a warm up, then we can work on takedowns. That work for you?” Morgan says. He’s nothing short of professional. You nod as you continue your stretches. 

Morgan tosses you a pair of gloves as he puts on his padding. You kick them off of the mat, opting to wrap your hands instead. He scoffs and shakes his head at you. 

“It’s not like we wear gloves in the field. I’d rather get used to the pain now,” You explain. 

Morgan moves to the center of the mat, and you position yourself right in front of him. He calls out some basic combinations, and you nail them with clean, quick movements. You dance around each other for a while, but it doesn’t feel quite as cathartic as you’d hoped. 

“Do you know why I’m so pissed at you, Morgan?” You ask between punches. 

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” He responds, and you kick him a little harder as punishment for the snark in his voice. 

“Daniel was my ex-boyfriend, but you knew that. But do you know what he did to me?” You continue your line of rhetorical questioning before throwing your whole body weight behind your punches. “He was a narcissist, but again, you knew that. What you don’t know is that he sexually assaulted me almost every day for six years. He hit me when I didn’t wash the dishes properly. He sabotaged my master’s degree applications so that I would have to stay with him. He was a disgusting human being.”

Morgan drops his hands and backs away, and you drop your stance in response.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Morgan asks. He seems genuinely curious.

“I don’t like to talk about it. Hotch knows, but he’s really the only one. I wasn’t ready to air my dirty laundry in front of the whole team.”

“If he was such a horrible person, why are you so mad that I killed him?”

“You took that kill away from me. I had the shot lined up, but you ripped it right out of my hands. I was ready to end it on my terms, and you stopped me from doing that,” You say as you wipe sweat from your forehead. 

“I am so sorry that I took that away from you. Had I known, things would have gone down differently.”

“I know that you had no idea. It’s unfair of me to be angry with you about something you didn’t know. But it still hurts that the biggest emotional release I could ever have was taken away from me,” You explain. You don’t want to fight with him forever, but it still stings.

“Are we going to let this affect how we work as a team? Or can we find a way to work this out?” Morgan asks, adjusting his padding.

“Only if you let me punch you some more,” You respond with a smile. You adjust the wraps on your wrist, making them a little more snug. Morgan nods, bringing his hands back up for you to hit. 

The two of you spar for a while longer before working on takedowns. By 7:30, the two of you are both on the floor laughing about whatever ridiculous moves you came up with to take him down. You get up to grab your bag, and you notice Hotch and Reid standing together on the other side of the glass wall watching the two of you.

You’re not on the clock yet, so you’re not technically required to adhere to company standards. You flip them both off as you make your way back to the locker room, ready to change your clothes and get back to your normal routine.


	27. When You Play Pretend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning, this story will be coming to an end soon. I feel like I've lost my grip on these particular characters a little bit. I may work on a sequel at some point, since I love the dynamic. For right now, I wanted to wrap things up before they get too repetitive or forced. There are still several chapters left for me to post, but I didn't want you all to feel like it's coming out of nowhere. 
> 
> Also, worry not, because I'm working on another reader/Reid fic. It's very different, but I'm already 8 chapters in to it and LOVING it.
> 
> Without further ado- enjoy this continuation of Trust Me.

You and Reid barely have time to kiss and make up before you’re called out on another case. 

You’re just finishing applying your makeup at your desk after training with Derek when JJ calls you all to the conference room. As you take your seat, you see photos of beautifully dressed dead women sprawled across the table. 

“What’s with people getting murdered in their nice clothes? It feels like Seattle just happened yesterday,” You point out. Everyone hums in agreement, though you get the feeling that case was more memorable for you than it was for the others.

“It is a very similar m.o.,” JJ begins. “Women are being picked up at fancy events, held overnight, then dumped somewhere by morning. There seems to be quite a bit of overkill with each victim, so we’re probably looking at some sort of revenge killing.”

“Which means they’re not going to stop until we make them. Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch barks from behind you. 

You land in Austin, Texas by noon, setting up shop in the local precinct.

Over the next couple of days, the only connections you’re able to find are that all of the women spent enormous amounts of money on their appearances. What strikes you as odd is that none of the women spent any of their money on plastic surgery. They wore lavish gowns, had their hair and makeup done by the most prestigious artists, and all of their jewelry was 100% real. But they never changed themselves permanently. 

By the time Thursday evening rolls around, you’re all at your wit’s end. You’re about ready to lock yourself in your hotel room and not speak to anyone ever again. 

You don’t know if it’s intentional, but Reid’s been driving you insane all week. He’s been cutting you off when you present potential pieces of the profile. He keeps second-guessing everything you say. You don’t think he’s doing it to be mean, but you’re going crazy. 

“Well, clearly we’re not getting anywhere with this profile. There’s another party tomorrow night. I think our only option is to send in bait. Do you feel okay going in there Agent [y/l/n]? After what happened last time, I want to make sure you feel completely comfortable,” Hotch presents the plan to the group.

“Absolutely, Sir. I think it would be smart if I wasn’t the only one going in. If JJ and Emily-” 

“It’d be a bad idea to send too many bodies in-” Reid starts, cutting you off again. 

“For fuck’s sake, Reid. Shut your mouth and let me finish,” You snap. Everyone goes silent, but you see Emily put her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. Reid looks at you like you kicked his puppy, but you don’t care. “Before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to say that Emily, JJ, and I should all go in. It triples the odds that the unsub will choose one of us as a target. Now, is there anything you’d like to say to that, Reid?”

Everyone holds their breath while looking back and forth between the two of you. Reid stays silent. He hangs his head as he replaces the cap on his marker. You feel bad calling him out, but he deserves it. It doesn’t matter how sweet he can be, he’s not allowed to bulldoze over you like that. 

Hotch is the first one to break the silence.

“That’s not a bad idea. Everyone head back to your hotel rooms and get some rest before tomorrow. Ladies, a team will stop by to help you get ready around noon. We have to pull out all of the stops for this one,” Hotch addresses the group while keeping his eyes on you. You nod before packing your things. 

Emily and JJ spend the night in your room. You don’t hear from Reid, so you send him a quick text.

‘Hey. I’m sorry for snapping, but I was really irritated that you kept cutting me off. I think you do it without realizing it sometimes. I hope you’re having a good night with the guys.’

He doesn’t respond. 

A small army of people arrive at your room the next day at noon, just as Hotch said they would. They begin working on all three of you simultaneously. After several hours of meticulous preparation, you, JJ, and Emily are allowed to put on your dresses.

For Emily, they choose an off-the-shoulder deep red gown. It hugs her figure beautifully, and you can’t help but be jealous of her. Her hair is delicately pinned up in a low bun, and the diamond necklace she’s wearing is worth more than your life.

JJ is dressed in a black velvet gown. There’s a thin purple overlay on her skirt that you can only see when it catches the light. Her hair is pulled back in a messy yet intricate braid, showing off her stunning jewelry. 

For you, the team pulls out a sparkly metallic gold dress. It’s skin tight down to about your knees before it drapes the rest of the way to the floor. The back scoops down impossibly low, requiring a hefty amount of fashion tape to keep you decent. Your hair is done in a tucked french braid to keep it off your neck. The stylist tugs all over your head, messing up the braid and making it look more ‘high-fashion’. The dress weighs about twenty pounds, and you stumble under the full weight when they rest the thin straps on your shoulders

Emily gets a text that the boys are on their way over to escort you to the car. When you hear the door click open, you all fall into the poses you agreed on. 

Even Hotch can’t help but laugh at the sight of you three posing like you’re in Charlie’s Angels. 

“Are we sure it’s a good idea to send them all in together?” Morgan jokes as he enters the room. 

“They won’t actually be together once they’re in. I think we’re safe,” Hotch replies, still smirking.

“Why can’t they make a dress where I can carry my gun on me without being noticed? Why don’t you have to suffer like this, Hotch?” You ask. You look amazing, but you still hate the idea of going in unarmed. 

“Because I’m not an attractive woman,” Hotch replies. You’re not sure how you feel about Hotch calling you attractive. “We’ll be right outside. There will be eyes on you the whole time. It’s completely safe.”

“That’s what you said last time,” You say as you look at Reid. You can’t place the emotion that he has on his face. He doesn’t look quite like he’s angry, but he definitely doesn’t look as happy as you thought he would. 

You don’t get a chance to address him before you’re escorted out of the building and over to the venue. 

You, Prentiss, and JJ split up after you walk in. You’ve never been great at the whole ‘wine-and-dine’ social atmosphere, but you do your best. You spend most of your night being hit on by middle aged white men whose wives are standing right next to them. As you move from one table to another, you feel a warm hand on your lower back. It takes all of your self-control not to scream and throw a punch. The hand is far too low for your liking, but it also might be attached to the person you’re looking for. 

You sip on your glass of colored water- Hotch set it up so you wouldn’t be drinking any alcohol while on duty- and listen to the man talk. He’s on the younger side, no older than about thirty-five. He’s white, a little short, and his suit isn’t the best quality. He talks like he is the most important person in the world. His narcissism is nothing short of nauseating. There’s a little venom in his voice as he compliments your appearance. You pretend to look away bashfully, but you’re really searching for JJ on the other side of the room. She meets your eyes and gives a little nod when she sees your discomfort. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I need a little air. I think I’ve had too many glasses of wine. I just can’t get enough of this stuff when I’m offered, you know?” You set your glass down and move away from the table. He moves to follow you. 

“Of course. Let me escort you. I wouldn’t want anything bad happening if you went out alone,” He replaces his hand on your back. You walk towards the exit praying that Hotch has his gun ready on the other side. 

You pass Emily on your way out, and she doesn’t take her eyes off of you. You can see her following you in the reflection of the glass door. 

The second you feel the cool night air, you hear Hotch’s voice loud and clear. You continue walking as Hotch yells for the unsub to get on the ground. The unsub sounds confused, calling out the fake name you gave him. You turn back and give him a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Thanks for the escort. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I didn’t have a big, strong man like you watching over me,” You say, adding an extra feminine lilt to your voice. 

Morgan pins the unsub to the ground, and you see him fight to keep a serious face at your fake attitude. 

You jump into one of the SUVs. You’re not much help without your gun, and you don’t have great range of motion in your dress. Emily and JJ aren’t far behind you. 

After the arrest is finished and all of the paperwork is in the right hands, Hotch drives all of you back to the hotel. Instead of going back to your own room, you find your way to Reid’s. Your car was the last to arrive, so you assume he’s already here.

Your hand doesn’t even make contact with the door for the second knock before he has it open. He’s got an unimpressed look on his face, and you’re already over his attitude after the night you’ve had. You brush past him and enter his room.

“So, what, is gold not my color or something?” You ask sarcastically. When you turn to face him, he’s got his arms crossed. The sleeves of his button up are rolled up, his hair is perfectly messy, and he looks beyond irritated with you. 

“What are you even talking about?” He asks in response. He sounds more tired than usual. 

“I’m talking about the fact that you looked disgusted when you came into my room before we left earlier. Morgan was undressing me with his eyes. Hotch clearly liked what he saw. What’s your excuse?” You taunt. You’re pushing his buttons, and he knows it. He made the choice to be annoying all week, so now he has to pay for it. 

“I’d really rather not think about what Morgan or Hotch wants to do to you. And I wasn’t disgusted,” Reid replies. You wait to see if he’ll continue his explanation, but he doesn’t.

“Well, what then? What is so horrifically wrong with me that I couldn’t get a reaction out of you?” You struggle not to raise your voice. You’re not really angry, but you will be if he keeps this up. 

“Nothing’s wrong with you. Sorry I don’t want to jump you in front of our coworkers,” Reid bites back.

“Apparently I should have gone to Hotch’s room then. He definitely seems like he’d be willing.”

Your breath is knocked out of you as your back hits the wall. You have to calm your brain and remind yourself that you’re not in any danger. Reid presses his body against yours, his hands dangerously low on your hips. 

“What the fuck is your problem today?” Reid growls.

“I could ask the same of you.”

You refuse to be the first to break eye contact. 

“Well it started when you yelled at me in front of the whole team yesterday,” Reid begins. He moves his arms up so you’re caged in. 

“I didn’t yell-”

“Don’t interrupt me. It started right there. I got your text, but that apology felt a little hollow. I don’t actually think you’re sorry. Then, this afternoon, I had to listen to the guys’ speculation about how you all would look. It took everything I had not to rip Hotch apart when I saw how he looked at you. During the party, I got to watch through the window as you flirted with men twice your age. You bumped elbows and laughed at their jokes. If only you could have seen how they looked at you when you walked away. You were nothing more than a piece of ass to them. So pardon me if I’m in a bit of a bad mood,” Reid finishes. 

“Are you honestly jealous of Hotch? I can promise that there is no piece of me that wants him like I want you. You don’t need to worry about that,” You say, softening your voice to the point where you’re almost cooing at him. You brush his hair away from his face, but he still looks ready to murder someone. 

“It’s not you I’m worried about-”

“Hotch would never, and you know that. Neither would Morgan. Now, those guys at the party, I’m not so sure. But you know better than anybody that I’d break their fingers if they tried anything. Anyways, it’s over. I’m here. I’m with you. I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t want to be.”

He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against yours. 

“I know. I just can’t shake the thought sometimes that something better will come along and you’ll leave.”

“I’m sorry that I planted that seed of doubt in your mind. I promise I’m not going to leave you for somebody else,” You run your hands up and down his sides as you continue to speak softly. 

“It’s okay. What had you in such a mood anyways?” Reid asks as he takes a step back from you. You cross your arms over your chest and consider how honest you want to be. You sigh as you come to the conclusion that honesty is probably the best policy. 

“If I’m being truthful, you’ve been irritating this week. You kept cutting me off and shooting down my ideas. It felt like you didn’t trust me, and it made me mad. You didn’t reply to my text, which was a genuine apology by the way, so I thought you were really mad at me. And I was ogled at by more than a few men tonight. They’re lucky I didn’t have my gun on me,” You say lightly, trying to convince Reid that you’re joking. 

“They’re also lucky that Hotch wouldn’t let me out of the car before you guys came out. I had a hard time seeing them touch what’s mine,” Reid’s voice lowers again as he presses you back against the wall. His lips come down to meet yours. His kiss is slow and deep, and it takes your breath away. You have to push on his shoulders firmly to get him to break away from you.

“I feel like we both need to relax a little bit,” You breathe against his lips. He pulls back from you and gives you a funny look. 

“Do you have a specific idea in mind?” Reid asks. A small smile makes its way to his face, but he still seems a little stressed.

“Do you trust me?” You question.

“Not in the slightest when you use that tone of voice.”


	28. When You Take Control

“Do you trust me?” You question.

“Not in the slightest when you use that tone of voice,” He replies. His fingers tighten on your hips, betraying his words. 

“Well, you seem wound up from trying to control others’ perceptions of me this evening. I feel like I’m lacking control after having to flirt with all of those men. Would you be comfortable flipping the script?”

“Why am I afraid to say yes?” Reid’s voice goes up a couple octaves at the end of his questions. 

“Will you regret it if you say no?” You respond. You watch as his eyes close and he takes a deep breath. 

“It should be illegal, the things you do to me,” He groans, letting his head fall back. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

You begin slowly untucking his shirt from his pants. You smack his hands away when he tries to help you unbutton it. He gives you a look, but you don’t offer him an explanation. You run your hands up his arms before working on unrolling his sleeves. It reminds you of the night you gave him a back massage in his hotel room. 

You loosen his tie and slip it over his head, tossing it to the side. You work on unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom up, letting your fingers purposefully brush against his abdomen. He fidgets with his fingers, unsure of what to do with his hands since you won’t let him help. You slide his shirt off of his shoulders and discard it. You’re much more impatient with his undershirt, and you quickly remove it from his body. 

“Go lay on the bed,” You say. You don’t add much of a bite to your voice, but it’s enough to startle Reid. He hesitates as he looks you up and down. “You heard what I said. Go.”

He stays silent as he situates himself in the middle of the bed. He props himself up on his elbows as you begin to remove your dress.

Luckily, since it’s so low in the back, you have no issues undoing the small zipper. You wince as you start peeling at the tape that kept you so secure. You turn away from Reid as you pull the straps off of your shoulders. You make as much of a show of slinking out of the dress as you can. There was no room to wear anything underneath, so you’re left completely naked once you step out of your gown. You drape it over the desk chair. It’s too expensive to be left in a pile on the floor.

When you turn back to Reid, it takes all of your willpower not to jump him immediately. He’s propped up on his elbows, eyeing you up and down. You return the favor as you admire his half-naked form laid out before you. He’s clearly loving the show. You glance at his crotch, and he’s noticeably hard. You flick your eyes back up to meet his and give him a little smirk. 

You’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 

You quickly grow impatient, so you throw one of your legs over his hips and straddle him on the bed. You take hold of his wrists when he moves to grab at your hips. You slam them back down on the bed above his head.

“I said we’re doing this my way. No touching or I’ll stop,” You warn. You think you hear him whimper a little. He leaves his hands where you put them. 

You lightly drag your nails down his chest and his muscles ripple at your touch. You lean over and place a light kiss on his chest before scooting down his legs a little. You make quick work of his belt. You roll it up and place it to the side in case you need it later. You undo the button on his pants, lightly brushing your hand over him. You hear a small choked sound get caught in his throat. You pause what you’re doing and position yourself so your face hovers above his.

“Remember what you told me once? It’s so much better if you just let yourself feel it. Nobody on the team has a room next to this one. They won’t be able to hear you. But I want to,” You whisper in his ear. He bucks his hips slightly, but you’re positioned too far forward for him to get any friction. You search his face for signs of discomfort. Between his fluttering eyelids and flushed cheeks, he seems to be enjoying this. 

You wiggle down his body and turn your attention back to removing his pants. You plant a kiss on his upper thigh, causing him to shift his hips again. You slowly pull his zipper down while applying just enough pressure to make him squirm. Hooking your fingers in the waistband, you finally pull his pants down his legs. He lifts his hips to make it easier on you, and soon enough his bottoms are discarded with the rest of his clothes. 

His arousal is even more evident now that he’s just left in his boxers. You resist the urge to rip them off of him as well. You want to draw this out a little longer. 

You position your hips back over his pelvis. Placing your hands on his chest for balance, you roll your hips against Reid’s. He moans loudly, and his hand finds a place on your thigh. You stop moving immediately.

“I’m sorry… I just-” He removes his hand as he stumbles over an apology. You cut him off with a kiss. You feel him puff out his chest a little underneath you in search of any contact he can get. 

You remove your mouth from his before leaning back and finding his belt. You hop off of him and move towards the head of the bed. 

“I told you to keep your hands to yourself. Now, I don’t want to stop, and I don’t think you want me to either. Do you need a little help?” You ask with a sweet voice. He looks between your eyes and the belt. His quick nod surprises you. You lightly bind his hands together, taking extra care to keep it loose enough that he can’t hurt himself. When you’re done, you kiss him softly on the forehead. “You say the word and I’ll take it off, okay? No questions asked.”

“Yes, I know,” He replies. His voice is deep and gravely. You love his voice normally, but you could listen to him talk like this forever. 

You ghost your fingers down his body as you make your way to the foot of the bed. You snag your finger under the elastic of his boxers, taking them with you. You spend a moment at the end of the bed, admiring your handiwork. 

Reid is sprawled out in front of you. He’s breathing heavily and is completely flushed. His hair is starting to stick to his forehead from the sweat, and his eyelids are heavy. You take note of all of his scars as you scan across his torso. You have to stop yourself from licking your lips as you notice how painfully hard he is. It’s comforting to know that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are. 

You decide you’ve had enough time to play with him. 

You hop back on the bed, straddling one of Reid’s legs. You wrap your hand around his length, and he hisses at the contact. You stroke him slowly a few times, and you can’t help but revel in the beautiful sounds coming from his mouth. You scoot up a little, positioning your hips over his yet again. You rub his tip against yourself, and he lets out an almost pained moan. 

Finally, you sink yourself down on to him, giving him what he wants. Your moans escalate to match his. He bucks underneath you, but you hold yourself steady. You begin to move slowly, letting your eyes fall shut at the addicting feeling of Reid moving inside you. It doesn’t make any logical sense, but the two of you seem to just fit so well together. 

You increase your pace slightly. You know you’re not going to be able to get yourself off in this type of situation, but you take enough pleasure in seeing Reid fall apart underneath you. His moans get higher whenever you move faster. 

“God, you feel so- Please.. I can’t,” Reid whines. You feel immense pride in your ability to make his brain short circuit.

“It’s nice to see that your pretty little mouth can stop working eventually,” You groan. You continue moving against him at a relentless pace.

Without thinking about what you’re doing, your hand finds its way to his throat. You freeze as soon as you realize your mistake, not applying any pressure, but you’re too late. You feel Reid’s hips stutter underneath you as he cums, filling you with his warmth. As soon as he stills, you grab his arms and begin undoing the belt.

“I am so sorry. I should have asked. I don’t know what came over me. I’m really really-” You apologize profusely as you massage his wrists. He stops your rambling by sitting up and kissing you gently. 

“It’s okay. I think it’s pretty obvious that I didn’t mind,” Reid replies, gesturing to your current position. He’s still inside of you, but you’re too stunned at your own actions to move. “I promise I’m not upset with you. But I do think it brings up a long list of things we need to talk about.”

You just nod in response. Your brain is still in overdrive thinking about what just happened. 

Reid grabs your waist and flops over so you’re both laying on your sides. He removes himself from you, and you can feel some warmth seeping out of you. 

That’s something you could get used to.

You sit in silence for a while, your eyes on the ceiling and Reid’s eyes on you. He’s got one of his hands on your belly massaging gentle circles. 

Eventually you break the silence.

“I’d like to know how I’m the one who ended up surprised here. I’m the one who suggested this whole thing,” You state. Reid laughs at you.

“Don’t overthink it. You’re fine. I’m fine. No harm done.”

You don’t respond. You place your hand over his, causing him to still.

“Do you really think I have a pretty mouth?” Reid asks. You can hear his smile in his voice. You smack his hand lightly.

“Yes. You’re beautiful. All of you, not just your mouth,” You admit. It’s hard to hide your feelings when you’re laying naked in bed together.

“Thank you. We should probably get cleaned up. We’re leaving early tomorrow.”

You nod and Reid grabs your hand to pull you out of the bed. You stumble a bit and he catches you by the elbow. Your legs are still wobbly from the evening’s activities. 

When you step out of the shower, clean and refreshed, you come to a realization. 

“I don’t have any of my clothes here,” You tell Reid. He tosses you a shirt out of his bag. “Thanks, but I can’t exactly wear this on the jet tomorrow. Do you think I can make it back to my room without anybody seeing me?”

“Maybe. Would you come back afterwards?” Reid asks as he grabs your waist. 

“I probably wouldn’t be able to. Can’t risk getting caught, you know?” You wrap your arms around his midsection and rest your head on his chest. You don’t want to leave him right now.

“I could go get your stuff,” Reid offers. You detach yourself from him to go find your key. As you hand it over, you come to a second realization. 

“JJ and Emily have the spare key to my room. Knock first, just to make sure they’re not there. They would never let me live it down if they knew what we just did,” You say. Reid furrows his eyebrows.

“Why is it such a bad thing if they know we’re sleeping together?” He asks. There’s a hint of defensiveness behind his voice.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know that. I’m pretty sure they already know about us. But if you’d like me to tell them that you, Dr. Spencer Reid, like being choked, I’m more than happy to oblige,” You tease, grabbing his shirt so you can pull him down for a kiss. He just brushes his lips against yours before pulling away. 

“I don’t need to give Morgan any more fuel for the ‘pretty boy’ fire,” Reid says before turning to the door. He gives you a small wave before shutting the door behind him.

You feel bad that you might have hurt his feelings, but Emily and JJ don’t need to know that you’re so dependent on Reid that you came to his room as soon as you got back. You putter around the room while Reid is gone, folding and organizing the clothes that were thrown everywhere. You work on peeling the fashion tape off of your dress, tossing the scraps in the trash. You search for a hanger to properly store the dress overnight. The gown is probably worth several months’ rent, so you want to keep it as safe as possible.

Reid returns rather quickly with your bag slung over his shoulder. He looks even more stressed than when he left. He tosses your bag on the floor by the foot of the bed.

“Hey, is everything okay? Were Emily and JJ there?” You question. 

“No, they weren’t. But Hotch was waiting outside your door. I covered and said you weren’t feeling well so you came to hang out with me. I told him I’d send you out when I got back,” Reid explains. You feel the telltale dread of anxiety building in your chest. You throw on a set of your own pajamas before heading out. 

“He really didn’t tell you what he wanted?” You ask. Reid shakes his head. You shrug your shoulders before heading into the hallway. You see Hotch standing by the elevators. He nods when you catch his eye.

“Hi [y/n]. Are you feeling alright? Reid said you were feeling sick?” Hotch asks, concern evident on his face. 

“I’m okay. I’m just feeling a little wiped out after this evening. I think it’s an adrenaline crash. I’ll live,” You reply. He seems to buy your answer, but he’s still on edge. “Is there something wrong, Hotch?”

Hotch looks rough. His hair is messy, not slicked back and professional like normal. He’s got his suit jacket off and his sleeves rolled up. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

“I just wanted to apologize for always sending you into the line of fire. It’s not fair for you. I’m sure it’s extremely stressful,” He says. 

“There’s no need to apologize. I will let you know if there’s ever a situation I’m uncomfortable with. I wouldn’t go if I didn’t want to,” You respond as you turn to face him head on. You try to get a better read on his face, but you’re struggling. “Are you sure there’s nothing else?”

Hotch shakes his head.

“I just wanted to make sure you know you’re safe on this team. I won’t let anything hurt you,” He meets your eyes. You don’t know exactly what he’s feeling, but whatever it is makes you slightly uncomfortable. You cross your arms over your chest.

“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate the concern,” You say politely. He pushes himself off of the wall he was leaning on. 

“You’re welcome. You know you can come to me with any issues you’re having. If there’s anything at all, I’m more than happy to help,” He continues. As he passes behind you to walk down the hallway, he brushes his hand over your lower back. You jump a little at the unexpected contact. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Never better, Sir,” You finish as you turn to walk in the opposite direction. You can feel his eyes on you as you knock on Reid’s door.


	29. When You've Had Enough

Reid immediately opens the door to let you in.

“What was that about?” He questions. You flop yourself down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. 

“I don’t know,” You reply. Reid comes to lay next to you. “He told me he wouldn’t let me get hurt. He said he’d always protect me. There was something else he wanted to say, but he wouldn’t. And he touched me when he went to leave. I don’t know. I think he’s been drinking tonight.”

“What do you mean he touched you?” Reid asks. You can feel the tension in his body. 

“He brushed his hand across my lower back. It startled me, so I jumped. I think I freaked him out,” You answer. Reid’s hand finds yours and he laces your fingers together. “Like I said, I think he’s under the influence. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s not like him to act like that. I think in the years I’ve worked at the BAU, he’s only touched me a handful of times. And it’s never just casual,” Reid says. It sounds like he’s just voicing his train of thought instead of actually talking to you. You give his hand a squeeze. 

“Don’t get yourself worked up about it. I’m sure it won’t happen again. Now, let’s get some sleep,” You bring his hand up and place a kiss on the back of it. 

You snuggle in together, pulling the blankets as far up as possible to shut the world out. 

The knock on Reid’s door comes far too early for your liking. You meet on the jet and are back in Quantico before lunch. You all head your separate ways since it’s officially the weekend. 

You spend most of the weekend on your own, completing the monthly deep-clean of your apartment. It got a little out of hand while you worked from home. Reid comes over on Sunday afternoon, continuing your tradition of spending the rest of the day reading together on the couch. 

There’s a little more tension in the air than you’d like. Spencer keeps glancing up at you over the top of his book, and he’s turning the pages far slower than normal. 

“If you have something to say, then say it,” You prompt, not looking up from your own book. You’re reading a non-fiction book about implicit bias. It’s dense but very enlightening. You’ve been working on it for several weeks. Reid would have finished it in a few hours. 

“What makes you think I have something to say?” He replies. He also doesn’t look up from his book, but he hasn’t turned a page in at least five minutes.

“Reid, it doesn’t take a profiler to see that something is bothering you. You should have been done with that book at least an hour ago. What’s wrong?” You dog-ear the page you’re working on before closing your book. 

“Does Hotch touching you not bother you? Because it bothers me,” Reid begins. “If it was any other man, you would have started throwing punches.”

“Well, first of all, he’s my boss. I would need a really good reason to punch him, and that wasn’t it. I don’t know if he’s just lonely or if he was having a bad night, but I don’t think he was trying to be predatory. Why are you so worried about this?” You ask in return. This type of insecurity is very unlike him. “If this is about what I said the other night about going to Hotch’s room instead, I was completely joking. I hope you know that.”

You scoot closer to him and force him to look at you. He places a bookmark in his novel before setting it on the side table. 

“I know you were just trying to rile me up, but Hotch doesn’t act like that with anybody. He never drinks when we’re away from home. Something about it just rubs me the wrong way,” He explains. You nod in acknowledgment before curling yourself up in his lap. You begin playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, twirling it between your fingers. Reid closes his eyes and leans his head into your touch. 

“Even if Hotch has a crush on me, I wouldn’t leave you for him,” You say before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. You won’t deny the fact that your boss is attractive, but you could never date someone so emotionally unavailable. 

The two of you sit together for a while, with you running your fingers through Reid’s hair and him tracing patterns on your leg. You don’t even realize how late it’s gotten until you look over his shoulder and see the darkness outside the window. 

“Are you staying here tonight, or do you need to go back to your place?” You ask as you begin untangling yourself from him. 

“I should probably head home. I’ve got some stuff I still have to get together before tomorrow,” He replies. You make an exaggerated ‘ahh’ noise at his vague-ness as you stand and help him up from the couch. You help him gather his things, and he kisses you on the forehead before heading out. 

You head to the office early the next morning to train with Derek. It’s not technically required, but you two agreed to use the time as a sort of couples’ therapy. Beating each other up once a week is great stress relief. 

When you arrive at your desk after training, there’s already a coffee waiting for you. You look over the divider so you can thank Reid, but he’s not at his desk. Looking around, he’s not anywhere in the bullpen, at least as far as you can see. You settle into your work, completing the report from last week’s case. 

You take a quick break after about an hour so you can run to the bathroom. Reid’s still missing. Nobody else seems worried, and your coffee was fresh, so you don’t let yourself get too concerned. You take the time to find one of the private bathrooms on a different floor. They each have a full-length mirror, which is a crucial part of your plan.

You crouch in front of the mirror, angling so you can take a picture at an almost side-profile. You pop open the top few buttons on your blouse. You want to show a little skin, but you’re still pretty modest. You let your skirt ride up your thigh a bit. You’re wearing tights, so nothing is really showing, but it’s the thought that counts. The position also shows off your gun as an added touch. You snap a couple quick pictures.

Once you find your favorite, you send it off to Reid with a short message:

‘I really wish you would’ve stayed over last night.’

You put yourself back together before heading back to the conference room for the morning meeting. Reid’s sitting in his usual spot. You give him a smile, but he only returns a small wave. Hotch is standing at the head of the table, staring you down. You ignore his intense look while you get yourself set up. 

The meeting is fairly uneventful, at least until the end. JJ details some cases that will require everyone’s input but won’t need your physical presence at the scene. Hotch debriefs about the last case, giving credit where credit is due. You notice that he doesn’t compliment you on anything. You begin clicking your pen to try and rid yourself of the building annoyance. He’s being ridiculous, but it’s not enough to start an argument over. 

“Hey, everything okay over there?” Morgan calls to you. You stop clicking your pen and set it down. You feel a blush creep up your cheeks.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s a bad habit. Continue,” You reply, nodding to Hotch. He looks about ready to murder you. You stare him down despite your embarrassment. You never did anything wrong. There’s no reason for him to be acting like this. 

Hotch opens the floor for any suggestions about how to improve for the future. The team bounces around a few ideas, and you’re all in agreement with each other. You decide to chime in.

“Actually, Garcia, I wanted to ask if there’s a way to-”

“We don’t need to hear anything from you,” Hotch interrupts. You stop speaking. The flush returns to your face, and you sink down in your chair to try and appear smaller. You’re too stunned at his outburst to defend yourself. 

“Who spit in your breakfast this morning, Hotch?” Prentiss questions, looking back and forth between the two of you. You avoid eye contact with everybody as you resume clicking your pen. You bite at the inside of your cheek, breaking skin as your embarrassment turns to anger.

What gives him the right?

“Everyone is dismissed. Agent [y/l/n], meet me in my office,” Hotch barks. Everyone slowly begins to pack their things, confusion evident on their faces. “Now. Go.”

You leave all of your belongings on the table before pushing your seat back and standing up. You make a show of yanking the conference room door open and storming to Hotch’s office. You slam his office door behind you to make your point. You might be acting a little childish, but he’s not acting any better. 

You’re ready to start the screaming match the second he walks through the door.

“Respectfully, Sir, what the hell is your problem?” You bite. You ultimately decide that it’s better to start professional.

“You. You’re my problem,” He replies, leaning his hands on his desk. 

“Okay, you’re going to have to be a little more specific here. I’ve been here for months. We haven’t had any issues before now. What happened?” You ask. You’re genuinely confused about what changed. Hotch takes a deep breath and rubs his face. 

“You are, by far, one of the most reckless, unprofessional, and disrespectful agents I’ve ever had placed on my team. You endanger yourself and others. You’re lucky I haven’t had you transferred out,” He begins. You don’t bother trying to hide your laugh. You can recognize the signs of gaslighting from a mile away.

“In case you forgot, Hotch, you picked me. You were the one who brought me in for interviews. You made the call for me to be on this team. I’m sorry if you’re feeling some regret about that decision. Nobody dumped me on you. You made that choice yourself,” You reply. You try to keep your voice as calm and even as possible. If he’s really looking for a reason to fire you, you’re not going to hand him one on a silver platter by raising your voice.

Before you know what’s happening, Hotch is across the room and slamming you back against the wall. Your body freezes up involuntarily, resorting back to your college self. You look at Hotch in disbelief as he continues to invade your personal space. 

“I picked an incredibly brilliant psychoanalyst to be on my team. I wasn’t looking for a whore that was going to seduce my employees and send them inappropriate messages during the workday,” Hotch growls. How does he even know about that? “I don’t want a brat who goes around attacking my team when she doesn’t get her way. I didn’t choose a slut who gets drunk and throws herself at her coworkers at parties.”

You don’t acknowledge what he’s saying. He’s digging for reasons to fire you. You’ve never endangered your team. He’s the one who keeps sending you out as bait. Everything clicks in that moment. 

“Have you been trying to kill me off this whole time? You keep sending me on my own to draw out the unsubs. You’re the one who keeps putting me in danger. I’ve never put anyone in harm’s way,” You respond. There’s no use arguing with him, but you have to defend yourself.

“Tell that to Dr. Reid,” Hotch bites before pulling you away from the wall and slamming you back again. You let out a sharp cry, hoping someone is listening on the other side of the door. 

A split second of silence passes before you feel Hotch’s mouth on yours. He presses his whole body into you, pinning you where you are. You kick and try to push him off. You dig at his arms with your nails. You make any attempt to leave marks that show you don’t want this. He breaks away from you when the doorknob rattles.

He locked it when he came in.

You place your hand on your thigh, finding a grip on your gun as a warning. 

“If you ever so much as think about touching me again, I will shoot you. If you think about looking at me, I will report you to Strauss’s superiors. I’d report you to her, but I think she likes you too much,” You warn as you back your way towards the door. He doesn’t try to follow you. 

You wrench the door open and push past the six bodies waiting on the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have things gone a little off the rails and very out of character?
> 
> Perhaps.
> 
> Did I still have a great time writing it?
> 
> Absolutely.


	30. When You Don't Fight

You ignore the chorus of your name being called from behind you as you crash through the glass doors of the office. You hear Morgan call Hotch’s name before his office door slams shut yet again. You catch Strauss’s eyes as she looks up at the commotion. Seeing your appearance, she rises from her desk, but you’re already gone by the time she’s out of her office. 

You decide to take the stairs. There’s no time to wait for the elevator. Surprisingly enough, you’re able to find your car even with tears flooding your eyes. You hop in the driver’s seat and lay your head on the steering wheel.

You always keep your car unlocked. You’d rather someone just open the door if they want to steal something instead of breaking a window. You just don’t keep anything important in there.

You left all of your belongings on your desk, so this is as far as you can get to escape.

Your breaths are coming far too quickly, causing you to become dizzy, and your entire body is hot. The edges of your vision are becoming fuzzy due to the lack of oxygen, so you don’t respond to the knock on your window. 

Emily pulls the door open and crouches down next to you. You feel her hand on your leg, but your brain is still moving too quickly to focus on her. You feel a smaller set of arms hook under yours and pull you from your seat. You have a hard time getting your feet underneath you, but Emily helps by taking some of your weight. You’re shuffled into the back seat, and you’re greeted by JJ’s face when you lie down. She begins running her fingers through your hair while Emily gets back in the front seat. 

JJ works with you to slow your breathing while Emily drives to your apartment. Your head begins to hurt on the ride home, presumably from the adrenaline crash and subsequent panic attack. JJ lets you lean on her as they escort you up to your front door. Emily finds the correct key on your lanyard and your door swings open. You immediately find your way to the couch and collapse face-first into it. Emily places a hand on your back, and you hear JJ grab a couple glasses in the kitchen, filling them with water. 

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Emily asks. You don’t, but they’re not going to leave until you do. 

“I’m gonna kill Hotch,” You mumble into the couch cushion. JJ hums approvingly as she approaches with a handful of drinks. They both force you to sit up and start drinking. 

“I think we were all a little afraid that he was going to kill you first. What happened in there?” JJ asks as she begins stroking your hair again. You work on removing your gun and holster from your leg, giving yourself something to fidget with instead of focusing too hard on recalling the events.

“Well, according to Hotch, I’m irresponsible, dangerous, stupid, a whore, and I think a couple other things as well,” You begin. Your knuckles are white from how hard you’re gripping your holster.

“Why would he say that? You’ve been amazing since the day you joined the team,” Emily says. She slaps your hands away so she can work on getting your holster off, since clearly you can’t do it yourself. 

“I don’t know what his problem is. He was fine on Saturday morning. Something changed that night, though. He came to find me in my room. He told me that he wanted to make sure I was safe and to let me know he’d never let me get hurt,” You let out a bitter laugh at that last thought. 

Emily and JJ share a look with one another. You furrow your brow as you look back and forth between them, but you don’t push the subject.

“He has no right to say those things to you. Is that all he said?” JJ prompts. They all heard your scream. 

“After he berated me for seducing the team, he decided that he wanted to be a part of that by throwing me against the wall and forcing himself on me,” You say bluntly. Emily’s hands freeze, and JJ places her water back on the coffee table. 

“He what?” JJ chokes out. You just nod in response. Emily finally gets your holster off, setting your gun gently on the table and tossing the holster next to it. 

“You don’t have to kill Hotch. We’ve got that covered,” Emily says as she rises from the couch. “Rossi was helping Reid grab your bag at the office. They should be here any minute. I’ll hitch a ride back to the office with Rossi. I need to have a talk with Hotch.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Are you going to talk to Strauss about it?” JJ asks. You shake your head.

“There’s no evidence. She has no reason to trust me over him. He’s got seniority,” You sigh. 

“We’ll all back you up. We heard you scream, and we all came running. Derek was a half-second away from kicking Hotch’s door down when you came out. You can’t just let this go,” JJ pleads. 

“There’s no actual proof. He could claim that I’m just trying to get attention. He already sounded like he was trying to get me fired. He might say that I’m trying to trick everyone to stay on the team,” You explain. You’ve been through this before. Daniel would constantly flip situations in his favor to make you look like the bad guy. You get nauseous at the thought that Hotch may do the same thing. 

JJ opens her mouth to respond, but she’s cut off by a knock at the door. Emily opens it, letting Reid into your apartment. He’s got your bag slung over his shoulder, and he’s holding what looks like a bottle of wine in his other hand. He gives you a sad smile as he takes in your appearance. 

“Rossi sends his condolences,” Reid says, holding up the wine.

“Does he just keep a stash in the trunk of his car?” Emily questions as she puts her hand back on the doorknob. “Are you good if we go?”

You nod, and Emily and JJ exit your apartment, leaving you alone with Reid.

He comes to join you on the couch. You prop your back up on one arm of the couch, and he matches your position at the other end, tangling your legs in the middle. You can’t look him in the eye. 

“Whatever happened, I’m on your side,” He says softly. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you wrinkle your nose to try and keep them from falling. 

“I’m going to tell you this, and I need you not to freak out, okay? Because I’m already freaked out, and I don’t need any help,” You start. Your voice still feels hoarse from all of the yelling and crying. Reid nods. “Hotch kissed me. He threw me against the wall, hence the screaming, and then he kissed me.”

Reid blinks slowly at you. 

“I tried to fight him off. I kicked and I scratched, but he wasn’t going to let me go. I think the only reason he backed off was because he knew Derek was going to kick the door in. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do and-”

“Stop it. You have nothing to be sorry for. You did the best you could,” Reid says. He looks like he wants to hold you, but he’s keeping his distance. “When I heard you scream, my heart stopped. I couldn’t think about anything other than trying to get you out of that room. We shouldn’t have let you go in there alone.”

“It’s none of your guys’ fault. I thought he and I were going to have a screaming match and that would be the end of it. I was sort of right, I guess,” You let out a little huff that could be perceived as a laugh if the mood were lighter. “Do you mind if I drink the entire bottle of wine that Rossi brought?”

Reid shakes his head as you pull yourself up from the couch. You pour yourself a glass that is decidedly larger than the normal serving size. It’s a nice white wine, not too sweet but not too dry. Rossi knows you well. 

You return to the couch, but you drape yourself over Reid’s lap instead of sitting as far away from him as possible. He hooks his arm around your waist to keep you steady. 

“I think what hurts the most is that he knows about me. He knows every detail about what I’ve been through, even more than you know. And he still made the choice to do that. I couldn’t even fight back. It’s like he knew the exact way to completely disarm me,” You explain between sips of wine. It hits you that it’s not quite noon yet. You argue with yourself that you’re not going back to work today anyways, so you continue working on your drink.

“His ex-wife was murdered,” Reid says suddenly. You whip your head towards him at the revelation. “It happened a few years ago. The anniversary was last week. He always has a hard time around this time of year. It’s no excuse, but it’s a least a start at an explanation.”

You almost drop your glass when your phone rings.

It’s Garcia.

“Hey! How are you? Do you need anything? I can bring more ice cream,” Penelope starts rambling.

“Penny, I’m okay. Reid’s with me and Rossi brought me wine, so I think I’ll live,” You reply. You try to sound as lighthearted as possible so as not to worry her. 

“Well, thanks to Derek’s impressive interrogation skills, we’ve deduced that our unit chief has been drinking today,” Garcia says. She pauses to wait for your reaction. 

“I figured as much. Does Strauss know?” You ask.

“She knows something is wrong, but not the exact details. We figured that a lot of it would be best coming directly from you,” She explains.

“Did he say anything else?”

“Not really. He’s obviously still under the influence, so we couldn’t get much more out of him. Strauss wants you to come back in to talk this afternoon,” Garcia finishes. You can hear the apologetic tone in her voice. 

“I can email a written statement, but I’m not stepping foot back in that office right now,” You say bluntly. Reid has been rubbing your lower back while you’ve been talking, and you’re not sure if it’s making you feel better or worse. 

“Sounds good. If you email it to me, I can print it and hand it to her. I’ll add in our statements as well. Let me know if there is anything you need, my love.”

“Of course, Pen. Thank you so much.”

Penelope makes an exaggerated kissing noise on the other end of the phone before you hang up. You settle back against the couch, swirling your wine around in the glass instead of drinking it. 

“Are you ever going to come back?” Reid asks quietly. 

“I don’t know. Probably. I love this job, and I worked my ass off to get here. I’m not ready to throw that away yet,” You admit. You turn to look at Reid. “How did he know about the picture?”

“I’m sorry?”

“He knew about the picture I sent you this morning. I double checked that I sent it to the right person. How did he know?” You search Reid’s eyes, and you see so much pain behind them.

“He pulled me into his office to talk to me this morning,” He says. He has to clear his throat before continuing. “He was talking about how unprofessional it is to sleep with you while we’re out on a case.”

“He knows about that, too?” You feel your face heat up at the thought of anybody hearing what happened in Reid’s hotel room. Reid has a flush over his cheeks as well. 

“Yeah. He does. He didn’t specify, but I’m assuming he was listening from the hallway.”

Your stomach churns at the image of Hotch listening to you on the other side of the hotel door. That was supposed to be a private moment. He had no right to intrude on that. You grip your wine glass a little harder. 

“My phone went off while he was talking to me, and he pretty much grabbed it right out of my hand. I tried to stop him from looking through it, but I couldn’t. I’m sorry. He doesn’t deserve to see you like that,” Reid apologizes. You place your free hand on the side of his face, and he leans into your touch. 

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about either. None of us could have known what is going on with him. I hate that he saw that without my permission, but I’ll live,” You assure him. 

“He was in the middle of telling me that I need to break it off with you when JJ called us for the meeting.”

“What did you say?” You ask. Your heart drops at the thought. 

“I told him that he can’t make me do anything. It’s not technically against company policy, so we’re not breaking any rules. I would know, since I read the policy and I remember everything,” Reid jokes. You breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Well, no matter what, I have to write this statement. He’s not getting away with treating any of us like that,” You say as you get up to search for your laptop. Reid’s hands hesitate on your waist before letting you go. 

You spend the next hour writing out every detail, recounting every word that Hotch said to you. You refuse to let Reid proofread it before you send it off, claiming that it will hurt him too much. You down the last of the wine in your glass before hitting send, praying that Strauss will be a decent human for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people may claim that things are super out of character, but nobody can convince me that Hotch wouldn't be a horribly mean angry drunk when he's in a bad mood...


	31. Where You Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Blood, mentions of self-harm, mentions of addiction

You don’t have time to process what you’re doing before you grip your second glass of wine so tight it shatters in your hand. You’re too busy reading Strauss’s email to notice that you’re dripping blood on the floor. 

‘Agent [y/l/n],

Today’s events have been brought to my attention, and I have received your team’s written statements. While I have always been harsh on Agent Hotchner, I believe the reaction to this situation is out of hand. Your Unit Chief does not deserve to have his career ruined over a misunderstanding. 

Take tomorrow off to cool down, but you will be expected back in the office later this week.

Please reach out with any questions.

Erin Strauss’

Overcome by blinding rage, you hurl your phone at the wall. It misses Reid’s head by only a couple of inches. He must have come running when he heard the glass break. 

You feel your legs give out underneath you, and Reid rushes over to catch you before your hands and knees hit the broken glass. 

If you were in a better headspace, you’d be impressed by his show of strength and grace. 

Somehow, he gets one of his arms under yours, placing his other behind your knees. He carries you over and sets you down on the kitchen table. He looks between you and the glass, trying to decide which to clean up first. 

“Do you have a first-aid kit somewhere?” He asks, crouching in front of you. You nod and gesture to the bathroom. You can’t bring yourself to speak. You’ll start yelling the second you open your mouth. After making sure you’re not going to throw yourself back at the shattered glass, Reid leaves to find supplies to bandage you up. 

He returns quickly, laying out his options on the table. He turns on the ceiling light before pulling up a chair. You dangle your legs off the end of the table, swinging your feet back and forth. He uses a pair of tweezers to pull out the first piece of glass, and you don’t even wince.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Reid asks without looking away from your hand.

“Not particularly,” You reply. You try to focus your attention on Reid’s methodical removal of half of a wine glass worth of shards from your hand. 

“Okay. Do you want to tell me why you don’t seem to be feeling any pain right now?” Reid continues his line of questioning. He removes a large piece and uses his thumb to apply a little pressure to prevent bleeding. 

“It’s probably the half bottle of wine in my system,” You answer flatly. You’re glad you wore a black skirt today, because it’s now coated in an almost alarming amount of your blood.

“Alcohol is a depressant, and it does relieve pain. Though, some studies believe that instead of actually blocking pain receptors, the alcohol reduces anxiety surrounding an injury, thus making it less painful. But I don’t think you’ve had enough for that to start working,” Reid rambles on. He knows you’re lying.

“You’re not going to want to hear the real answer,” You mumble. You’re already surprised that he doesn’t think you’re crazy. You don’t know how much more fuel you can add to the fire before he walks away. 

“Again, that’s incorrect. I want to hear the answer. I just might not like it.”

“Fine, be that way. I don’t react to this kind of pain because I used to cut myself. I’ve done worse to my own body, so this feels like nothing,” You explain. He pauses to look up at you with disbelief in his eyes. 

“But you don’t have any scars...” He trails off. 

“None that you’ve seen. I was really good at making them so thin that they’re almost invisible. You have to look really close to find them. And only when there’s good lighting,” You continue casually. He’s resumed picking glass out of your hand, but he’s much slower and gentler now.

“How long have you been clean?” He asks. 

“Not nearly long enough,” You sigh. He stops and looks up at you again, raising his eyebrows. Your answer isn’t good enough. “Not even a year. It was right before I left Daniel, so seven months, maybe.”

“You know you can always come to me, right?” He looks at you with his sad, kicked-puppy eyes, and it melts your heart. You run your good hand through his hair, pausing on his cheek. 

“I know. I haven’t felt any urges in a while. I know they can come and go, but I’ve been feeling pretty good lately,” You try to comfort him. You don’t want him thinking that he’s ever left you alone when you needed somebody. 

“I used to be addicted to dilaudid,” Reid says bluntly, removing the last couple pieces of glass from your hand. You have to resist the urge to squeeze your hand shut to feel how bad the pain is. 

“I know.”

When they gave you the rundown of each of the team members when you were hired, it came up. They wanted to make sure that you never accidentally made any references or jokes without knowing. 

“I guess technically I’m still addicted. It never really goes away. I don’t want to say that I know how you feel, because I technically don’t. But I can relate. It’s all addiction. Just a different method of getting high,” You can hear his voice straining. You rub your thumb across his cheek bone and lean over to kiss him on top of his head.

Reid is too sweet to you, even when you almost hit him with your phone. 

Reid helps you off of the table and to the bathroom, intentionally avoiding exposing you to any more broken glass. You run your hand under some water to clean off most of the blood. The active bleeding has stopped, but it’s starting to bruise. The two of you walk back to the table and you reclaim your seat. 

“This is going to hurt like hell,” Reid says as he prepares some alcohol swabs. It feels like your hand has been dipped in fire the second he starts cleaning. He tries to be as quick as possible, but you have to bite down on your sleeve to keep from screaming. It takes a while to settle down after he stops cleaning. While you wait, Reid rubs your leg as an attempt at a distraction. 

“I feel like that was punishment for throwing my phone at you,” You laugh, trying to cope with the pain using humor. 

“To be fair, I don’t think you were trying to hit me with your phone. I’m pretty sure I just walked into the path of destruction,” He says while he starts applying gauze to your hand. He wraps his handiwork with some cohesive bandage. You bend your fingers to test his bandaging skills, and it stays in place. 

You hop back off the table to begin picking up the rest of the glass from the floor. Reid crouches next to you to help.

Once you get everything cleaned up, you try to find your phone. It’s not very difficult. You left a fair sized dent in the wall, and your phone didn’t land very far from it. You wrinkle your nose as you assess the damage. The wall shouldn’t be too hard to fix. Surprisingly enough, your phone is completely intact.

“Maybe I really should go back to therapy,” You comment as you run your fingers over the abused wall. When Reid doesn’t comment, you turn to find him. He’s leaning against the counter, giving you a sad look. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I just hate seeing you in pain,” He replies. You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and laying your head on his chest. He matches your actions and wraps his arms around your shoulders snugly. 

“How about we order some dinner and watch a movie? I think we both need to relax,” You offer. 

“As long as you don’t drink any more wine,” Reid quips. You detach yourself from him and dejectedly store the wine in the fridge. 

You end up ordering italian food and watching a generic rom-com together on the couch. 

You spend most of the movie flipping through your phone. You’ve got too much pent up anxiety to focus on one thing for very long. Your heart stops when you see an email come through.

It’s from Hotch. 

‘[Y/n],

I realize that I have no right to be so casual and friendly with you after my behavior earlier today, but I felt the need to reach out and apologize as soon as possible.

As I’m sure the others have told you, the anniversary of my late ex-wife’s murder was last week, and this year has been particularly difficult for me. I used alcohol as a coping mechanism, and that was the first of many mistakes.

I have always found you attractive and extremely brilliant. I would never choose to act on my emotions for fear of damaging our professional relationship. Clearly, my brain doesn’t work as well when inebriated. 

I will never be able to explain how sorry I am for what I did to you. You’ve been through enough in your life, and you did not need me to add to your list of traumas. 

If you need to take personal time to heal, I completely understand. I’ll sign off on any paid time that you’d like to take.

My sincerest apologies,

Aaron Hotchner’

Spencer notices your grip tighten on your phone and grabs it from your hand before you have a chance to throw it again. He gives you a questioning look, but you shake your head in response, turning your attention back to the movie. 

Reid basically has to carry you to bed. You’ve had a long day, and your will to move has long since passed. 

As you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, you can’t help but notice the pain in your shoulders. There are bruises on your upper arms. Reid’s arm over your stomach feels suffocating. Your hand is throbbing. 

When you close your eyes, all you can see is his face. You trusted Hotch. He became a father figure to you. And he had to go and mess it up.

Just like they all do.


	32. Where it Ends

You hop out of bed at the first sound of Reid’s alarm. He looks startled at your burst of energy. You ignore his confused mumbling while you throw on some clothes and start the coffee pot in the kitchen. He follows shortly after, throwing on a fresh sweater and ruffling his hair into place.

“I thought you weren’t going in today,” Reid says quietly. He probably already knows what’s happening.

“I’m not working today. There are just some things I need to finish,” You reply as you pour a travel mug of coffee for the both of you. Reid nods before grabbing his bag. In less than a half-hour, you’re both out the door. 

You feel sick walking through the glass doors of the BAU. 

Over the past several months, this place started to feel like home. Now, it’s been poisoned like everything else in your life. Everyone looks up as you enter, their reactions ranging from relief to shock. The door to Hotch’s office is closed. JJ is the first to approach you. 

“Hey, can you call the meeting a little early today?” You ask. Your voice cracks about half way through. She nods before running around to collect the team.

For once, you stand at the head of the roundtable. JJ stands beside you, tablet in hand, dreading what’s about to happen. Everyone looks at you with varying emotions in their eyes. An unsettling silence falls over the room when Hotch walks in. You stare him down, but he can’t even meet your eye. 

“I want to start by thanking all of you for the past few months. This is my dream job, and you are the best family I could have found to do it with,” You begin. “With that being said, my time here has come to an end.”

You close your eyes and grit your teeth at the reactions of your best friends.

“No, you can’t just leave. We can fight this with you. Let us help you,” Garcia pleads from her seat, tears already streaming down her cheeks. Emily rubs her hands over her face. Morgan leans his arms on the table, staring off into nothingness.

“I love each and every one of you. I couldn’t have asked to find a better team. Rossi, I am going to text you every time I make italian food to ask what kind of wine I should buy. And I fully expect to be invited to all future dinner parties,” You say as you face him. He’s got a soft smile on his face, but you can see the tears forming in his eyes. 

“Morgan, I’m going to buy a gym membership so I can keep kicking your ass every Monday morning. It’s better than any therapist I could ever find.”

You hear him huff a resentful laugh. When he looks up at you, you regret all of the time you spent arguing with each other. 

“Garcia, I’ll spend at least an hour each night searching for pictures of baby animals to send to you. Also, ice cream and movie nights will be on the schedule every other week.”

She smiles at you through her tears. 

“JJ, I am always available to babysit whenever you need, as long as I receive a full bottle of wine as payment. I would also like to request some dance lessons, because you are better than I’ll ever be.”

JJ grabs your hand and squeezes it tight. It reminds you of your first case, where she held your hand in the back of the SUV.

“Emily, I will show up at your apartment at all hours of the night to visit with Sergio. At the same time, I will also raid your wardrobe. I’ll wear your best outfits when we go out clubbing again.”

Emily has pure rage in her eyes. She looks like she wants to comfort you, but she may also be plotting the murder of several people sitting around the table.

“Dr. Spencer Reid, you were my first friend here. You’re my best friend, and you’re my home. I couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend. That won’t end just because I’m leaving. I know where you hide your apartment key, and I’ll be holding some of your favorite books hostage.”

Everyone’s heads whip to look at Reid the second the word ‘boyfriend’ leaves your mouth. His eyes never leave yours, and you have to pause to collect yourself after seeing his flushed cheeks and tearful eyes. 

“Aaron Hotchner. You were the leader I needed. You became the father I never really had. And you ruined it. You took all of the happiness that I had created for myself and set it on fire. For that, I will never forgive you. Even if Strauss believed me and you lost your position, I would never be able to walk back into this building without remembering what you did to me. You are a disgusting excuse for a unit chief.”

He remains silent, finally making eye contact with you. He looks more like himself today, and you assume he spent the night sobering up. There’s remorse hiding somewhere in his face, but your stone cold glare causes him to avert his gaze.

“What will you do now?” Rossi asks. 

“I don’t know. I think I’m going to finish my doctorate, if I can get the funding. Whatever it is, it’ll never live up to this,” You admit. You don’t let yourself cry. If you start, you won’t stop. “I’ll send my letter of resignation with Reid tomorrow, Agent Hotchner, so everything is official.”

You don’t wait for anybody’s response before hustling out of the room. Their emotions are becoming suffocating. 

You see the reflection of a certain lanky agent as you make your way to the door. As you pass through, his hand finds its way into your back pocket. You slink your arm around his waist, holding onto him as if he is your anchor. 

You believe that you can learn a lesson from everything that happens in your life. In this case, you learned to trust. Sometimes you got burned. But overall, you found the best family you could have ever imagined.

And for that, you’ll be eternally grateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little diddy to wrap everything up.
> 
> Like I said previously, this wasn't how I really intended for it to end. I feel like I lost my grip on the characters a little bit, so I wanted to let them go before things got too out of hand. There may be a sequel in the future, but I don't have any specific plans as of right now.
> 
> I do have another fic I'm working on that I'll start posting in the very near future, so keep an eye out for that!
> 
> Thank you all for reading. This was my first ever fic, and I'm happy that I finally had the confidence to share.


End file.
